


Serendipity

by Sushi



Category: Bones (TV), Castle, Fringe, The Mentalist
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sushi/pseuds/Sushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two book authors are victims of "The Pattern" at Los Angeles Intl Airport.  When their law enforcement partners, the Fringe Unit and CBI arrive to save them, they find their lives inextricably intertwined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Los Angeles International Airport

**Author's Note:**

> Written during Season One of Fringe. AU works, continuity with the shows, not so much. Shameless Shipper, objects may appear closer than they seem.

Travelers come in all shapes, sizes and ages. There are tired parents coaxing their cranky children to hurry along as they drag their colorful little suitcases behind them. College and high school students with headphones dangling from their ears and backpacks slung over their shoulders. Senior citizens wearing comfortable shoes and thick sweatshirts sporting store logos or cartoony looking sunflowers and impatient looking businessmen and women, armed with their efficiently packed carry on baggage who expertly maneuver the concourse like soldiers going into battle. Only at an airport food court will you find this kind of diversity standing in line for fast food, bottled water and fancy coffee.

One man was in a category of his own, but at this late hour it was easy to dismiss him amongst the harried looking crowd. His conservative dark gray suit, felt hat and plain hard-sided briefcase gave him a decidedly vintage appearance, as if he had stepped out of a set from the nineteen sixties. He purposely waited for a table next to the window and when one opened up, he quickly claimed it and sat down. First he removed his hat, his bald head and pale complexion gave him a peculiar appearance, but it was his lack of eyebrows that made him appear almost ghostly. Next he extracted a notebook and a pair of metal binoculars from his case and placed them carefully on the table. He took turns writing cryptic characters in the pages of his notebook and peering through the binoculars into the dark night, studying the terminal on the opposite side of the runway. Finally, he removed his pocket watch and checked the time. Satisfied that all was as scheduled, the Observer made another entry in his notebook, and waited.

* * *

Rick Castle handed Temperance Brennan a cup of coffee and plopped down in the chair next to her. The VIP lounge at the airline terminal had calmed down after the international flight to China had departed. The uncharacteristically quiet atmosphere gave the two authors time to relax and talk.

"Don't look so aggravated, you should be thankful it was only a three day tour. A million years ago, before Amazon, my second Derrick Storm book was published and they sent me on a month long junket through the mid-west. Every morning, I woke up in a Holiday Inn and was forced to go to a shopping mall, where a cell awaited me at a B. Dalton or Waldenbooks store. To keep me from escaping, they drugged me with Cinnabons… I must of gained ten pounds." Castle look amused, his large, expensively dressed frame filled the chair he sat in and despite the late hour, he was cheerful and well groomed.

Brennan smiled. "A three day tour equals five days with travel time. I'm sorry if I seem less than enthused." She sighed before sipping from her coffee. "This career path was never intended, much less planned."

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that!" He whispered with a sly smile. "Some of us have been writing since… well since, you were learning your multiplication tables, and success didn't come easy. You should count your lucky stars."

Brennan smirked back at him. "Since when did you become a follower of astrology?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. "Besides, luck & stars have nothing to do with inspired writing."

Castle shrugged his shoulders while still maintaining a chesire cat grin. He felt accomplished at having made inroads with the brainy beauty. "So I won't ask about the details, but what kind of deal did you swing?"

"I fear the commitment to write three books over the next five years may interfere with my real work as a Forensic Anthropologist." Brennan tried to look contrite, but the merry expression in her light blue eyes gave her away. "My advance comes twice a year."

"Yeah, life's really a bitch, isn't it!" He teased her.

The authors exchanged knowing looks. They shared the same publishing company and the _novel_ idea to pair the two on a book signing in San Francisco and Los Angeles had been conceived. Castle had turned out to be much better company than Brennan imagined, and in turn, he had enjoyed chipping away at her dour demeanor. On the surface they had very little in common, except for one shared characteristic, their law enforcement partners. As Castle put it, "it takes one to know one" and an unlikely camaraderie had formed between them.

"Does Detective Beckett actively consult on your books? Has she helped you shape the character of Nikki Heat?" Brennan asked curiously. "Nikki is quite frisky, I imagine Detective Beckett is too."

Castle almost choked on his coffee and he looked at her incredulously.

"I take that as a negative." Brennan chuckled.

"Let's just say her contribution is more subtle." He looked out into the room; Brennan looked too, but realized his gaze was focused on something inside his head. "Kate Beckett is by far classier, has more integrity and is more complicated than Nikki Heat. As for the frisky part, I'll use your favorite word, _conjecture_."

Brennan immediately understood. "I am always denying my partner is the inspiration for Agent Lister, but it doesn't take a genius to deduce how many FBI Agents I actually know. It should be noted though, Andy Lister is quite one-dimensional in comparison to Agent Booth."

"It's not easy is it? Working with someone who sets a totally different standard than what you're used to. The bar isn't raised, it just doesn't exist when you're working with cops, and the good ones are heroic everyday." Castle added earnestly.

She had to agree, what he spoke of was undeniably true.

* * *

"It's a hoax, a copy cat… someone is yanking our chain." Patrick Jane looked at the crudely drawn happy face on the wall. A combination of disgust and frustration crossed his face.

"How can you be so sure?" Van Pelt looked at him inquisitively. She surveyed the airport storage facility; cartons on wooden pallets were arranged in neat rows. The only exception was the corner of the building they stood in. Grace tried to hide her revulsion as she scrutinized the drawing done in human blood.

"Jane's right. This isn't Red John. Look at the circle, Red John is right handed, this was drawn by someone who is left handed." Teresa Lisbon took her finger and traced in the air the direction the circle was drawn in. "Besides, this isn't his M.O."

"Hey Boss, look here." Lisbon walked over and stood next to Rigsby, he towered over her as he pointed to a knife that lay on the ground. There was evidence of blood on the blade and hilt and a footprint was clearly visible next to it.

"It looks like a fillet knife, but it's actually a boning knife." Kimball Cho stated, his arms folded in front of him.

The CBI agents all turned to stare at him.

He looked at them with his usual deadpan manner. "I like to cook."

"Okay, bag the evidence, lets get this photographed and have the Port Police sweep the area." Lisbon looked over at the medical examiner and his assistant. "Thanks for waiting." She snapped the blue latex gloves off of her hands and pushed her brunette bangs out of her face. Petite in height and stature she appeared diminutive, until she spoke. Her voice commanded attention and displayed authority.

Van Pelt jotted down a few notes on her pad and took a few more photos before Rigsby bagged the knife. They left the scene with Cho and walked outside.

Lisbon walked over to Jane. "This is still an active murder investigation, but I'm sorry it didn't give us any leads on Red John." She looked at him compassionately. "You okay?" She knew his wounds would never heal until the serial killer who took his family was brought to justice.

Jane did his best to avoid looking at her, his tousled blond hair, rumpled suit of clothes and sad expression made him look and feel vulnerable. He watched the M.E. bend over the body, while his assistant snapped pictures.

"This was premeditated, our killer didn't spontaneously decide to throw suspicion onto Red John." Jane hesitated for just a moment. "This was, however, her first murder."

Lisbon nodded in agreement. "Yeah... I'm giving it back to the locals..." She looked at him, "Her?"

"What kind of self respecting male murderer would wear running shoes with that little heart on the sole and use a kitchen knife? I would assume both belong to a woman."

Lisbon did a double take and saw it too. Her face lit up with a crooked smile. Jane, as usual pointed out the not so obvious.

"That's sexist and you're a show off, come on, let's get back to the hotel. I'm beat." They walked outside the storage building and joined the other agents. In the background the Los Angeles International Airport's control tower lit up the landscape. The themed building next to it looked like something out of the Jetson's.

Jane stood with his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels as the CBI team talked over points of the case. His disappointment at not getting a solid lead on Red John was suddenly interrupted. "Hey! Did you feel and hear that?"

The CBI Agents stopped what they were doing and looked around.

"Oh my God! Look!" Van Pelt pointed toward the airport terminal in the distance. They could clearly see and hear the building as it sank into the ground.

* * *

Castle went rigid when the first tremors hit. He felt helpless when he saw the floor start to buckle beneath their feet.

"Jesus Christ! Temperance, we need to get away from the window." He pulled her up and pushed her away from the large picture windows.

Brennan scrambled up on unsteady feet and moved toward the wall at the far end of the room. She looked behind her in time to see part of the ceiling fall and the window shatter into thousands of pieces. Castle was blinded by the cloud of dust and debris.

"Rick!" She turned around and reached out to him. "Take my hand!" He grabbed her hand just as the floor beneath them collapsed.

* * *

The CBI team followed the Port's security into the terminal that once housed the VIP lounge. Lisbon made her way into the crowd and approached a police officer who was directing the efforts.

Van Pelt was warning the gathering crowd of people to stay back and Jane helped a young girl find her mother. The first responders had arrived and were setting up work lights and paramedics were treating people at the scene. The chaos amongst the frightened airline passengers and personnel had escalated when the full magnitude of the event unfolded.

Jane looked dazed by the sight in front of him. "I've never seen an earthquake like this! How could it be isolated in this one area." The corner of the building had literally been swallowed up.

"Boss, there's still seven people unaccounted for and the PD said they're bringing Homeland Security in." Van Pelt's disturbed expression trumped her pretty and youthful looks, but she remained calm and poised.

Lisbon furrowed her brow. "Do they think this is an act of terrorism? Is it possible… maybe it's a sinkhole?" She shook off the questions in her head. "We can make ourselves useful. You, Cho and Rigsby, start taking statements from witnesses."

"Yes Boss." Van Pelt sought out her team members and found them lifting a man out of the way. They set him down where the medical team had set up a triage area.

The man coughed and sputtered as he spoke. "There's a man and woman down there!" he gasped. "I saw them… the floor just opened up and they went down!"

Rigsby took his statement and inwardly shuddered at the thought of being under all that debris.

Jane was the first one to see it amongst the pandemonium. "Lisbon!" he called to her. "What in God's name is that?"

Her eyes saw his confused, almost frightened expression. She followed his line of sight and it settled on the far end of the caved in ground where the lounge once stood. "What the hell is that?" Lisbon whispered.

The hair on the back of Jane's neck prickled and he was acutely aware that someone was watching him. He scanned the crowd, and his eyes settled on the Observer and his expressionless face, staring back at him.


	2. Alive

"Temperance?"

"Rick! I'm here." Brennan's voice trembled. "Talk to me so I can orient myself to your voice."

"Are you hurt?" Castle's voice cracked.

"No, I don't think so." Brennan groaned as she shifted her weight. "Keep still, we don't know what we're dealing with. If it's an earthquake there may be aftershocks." She tried to sit up, but her head bumped up next to something and she flattened herself back on the ground.

"You think this was an earthquake?" Castle's breathing was labored.

"Maybe, I don't know what else it could be."

"Your phone... I lost mine when we fell." He huffed out the words.

Brennan pulled hers from her jacket pocket. She pressed the button and it lit up. "We've been down here for almost an hour, I've got a flashlight app on it." She touched the face of the phone and a white screen came on.

She pointed the light around and realized how lucky she was to be alive, she lay in a pocket created by the connected chairs that were in the lounge and a big piece of wallboard wedged together. Turning the light, she could see Castle, a large metal beam lay diagonally across him, one end of it higher than the other. The building had crumbled, wires were pulled loose, some dangled haphazardly, the walls were reduced to pieces of rubble, shards of glass mixed with insulation and pieces of rock covered the floor. They were trapped under a layer of the destroyed building.

She scooted commando style toward him. "Are you hurt?"

He grimaced. "No, I don't think so, but my leg is pinned, I can't move."

"I'm calling Booth. He'll get help, let them know we're alive." She pressed the well used speed dial number on her phone.

 _Across the country, Booth was in a sound asleep when his phone rang. He checked the caller I.D. "Jeezus Bones, you know what time it is?" He sank back down in the comfort of his bed, his head still groggy._

"Booth, I need help. Rick Castle and I are at LAX and there's been some kind of earthquake. The part of the building we're in collapsed."

 _"What?" Booth sat up and swung his legs out of bed. He listened to his partner explain how they were trapped underneath the caved in building. "Bones, are you hurt?"_

"I'm not hurt, but I can hardly move. There's a metal beam that fell on Rick, he's pinned down." She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but hearing her partner on the other end of the phone caused her fear to surface.

 _"Listen to me. I'm going to hang up and call the Bureau, let them know what's happened."_

"Booth? Please hurry." The desperation in her voice scared him.

 _"I will Bones. I promise, I'll get you out of there. I promise." He hung up, a fleeting thought of the Gravedigger crossed his mind, but he shook it off and dialed the FBI Switchboard._

"It's going to be okay, Booth knows we're down here. He's calling for help." Brennan struggled to regain her composure.

"Temperance, will you call Beckett?" Brennan nodded and Castle recited the numbers.

 _It was 3:02 am in New York City when Kate Beckett's phone buzzed across her night stand. She rolled over, switched on the light and picked it up. "Beckett... who is this?"_

"Detective Beckett, it's Temperance Brennan, we need your help." Her voice was tight and desperate.

 _"Dr. Brennan?" Beckett knew something was wrong. "Where's Castle?"_

"He's here…" Brennan reached over and handed him the phone. "Beckett, it's me."

 _"Castle? What's happening, where are you?" She propped herself up in her bed._

"We're at LAX, we were in the VIP lounge waiting for our flights. Something like an earthquake or an explosion, I don't know what the hell it was… it caused the building to collapse. We're trapped."

 _"Oh my God, are you hurt?"_

"Listen to me, you have to help get us out of here. Temperance called her partner with the FBI, his name is Seeley Booth, find him. You need to let them know we're down here."

 _"Castle, answer me, are you hurt?" Beckett knew he was when he didn't answer._

"I'm all right, but Kate, I need you to let Alexis and Martha know I'm okay. I need you to call and reassure them. Please, will you do that?"

 _"Yes, of course… Castle..."_

 _"Kate, tell them I love them." He gasped out the words._

 _"I will. Castle, I'm coming to get you... Castle?"_ Beckett waited for a response, but all she heard were muffled noises before the call ended. Had she been there, she would have known that more of the building and the wall of dirt surrounding them had caved in.

* * *

"Broyles, Department of Homeland Security" He flashed his badge. "This is Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop, we're here to conduct a preliminary investigation." His tone was clipped, abrupt and imposing. During the night they had been contacted, dispatched and flown to Los Angeles. By the time they arrived, the sun was peeking over the horizon and lighting up the sky.

"Who can debrief us?" Dunham asked showing her badge to one of the police officers.

A tired looking Port Police officer with a clipboard stepped forward. "The airport terminal has been secured. There are four confirmed deaths, and three still missing including a Dr. Brennan and Richard Castle. The injured have been moved to area hospitals and the rescue effort is underway."

The officer motioned for them to follow him. "You have to see this for yourself." He led them to an area that had been cordoned off with yellow police tape.

"Whoa..." Peter said in a hushed tone. "You think they could still be alive under there?"

The devastation looked unreal. One entire section of the airport terminal had broken off and collapsed into a gigantic hole. Workers were steadily working to clear away parts of the building by hand.

"The area won't withstand the use of heavy equipment." The CBI Agent walked up, fatigue was etched into her face. "I'm Teresa Lisbon, California Bureau of Investigation. We were here investigating a homicide when this event occurred. By all accounts, the damage was isolated to this one area. Nothing else was destroyed including the parking garage and runways."

"Olivia Dunham, FBI, this is Peter Bishop, we're here to investigate the occurrence." She shook Lisbon's hand. "Please, go on."

"The DHS have shut down the airport to commercial flights, they've been diverted to Orange County, Burbank and Riverside. Since the initial event, there's been one more collapse within the site and they've resorted to clearing it slowly. Two of the people trapped down there are presumed alive, they used Dr. Brennan's phone to call their partners. That was over five hours ago.

"Does anyone know what caused this?" Peter asked as he studied the area.

Jane walked up, he had taken his suit jacket off and rolled up his sleeves when he had joined the effort to clear away some of the debris. A dust mask hung around his neck, and plaster dust clung to him even, coating his eye lashes. "This wasn't a terrorist event. There's no evidence of an explosion of any kind, and earthquakes don't isolate themselves to one spot."

"This is Patrick Jane, he's part of my team. One of the engineers ruled out a sinkhole, there's no reason to believe the ground was unstable." Lisbon added. "Something caused the ground to open up and the building went down."

"Something's over there." Jane motioned to an area that had been blocked off with construction screening.

Broyles walked over with his hands in his pockets and a stern expression on his face. "Follow me."

"It's not a bomb, the dogs confirmed it." Lisbon offered, watching the reactions of the blonde woman and her intense looking partner.

Olivia and Peter has already been briefed on why they were here. They looked down at the cylindrical bullet shaped object sitting amidst the debris and exposed dirt. It was two feet tall, a blue strip of light spiraled around it and it lit up and hummed intermittently at an odd pitch. It was identical to the one they had encountered at the construction site in New York.

"Olivia, a moment please." Peter took her aside so they could talk privately. His voice was just above a whisper. "You know as well as I do, the last time this thing showed up, there was no fun party following it."

"I know, and that's why we're here. Broyles wants to transport it to some undisclosed location. Walter and Astrid are on their way there right now. He thinks something incomprehensible is going to happen and we need to be here to deal with it." Olivia looked conflicted. "Peter, two, maybe three people are trapped down there. Can we do anything to help them?"

"I don't know, but if we can, we will."

The bizarre circumstances that brought them together in the first place had now become something very personal for them. The mysterious cylinder was only one of a growing mountain of questions they had.

Olivia's life had gone from losing her FBI Partner and lover, to finding out she could shape events with her mind, to discovering she had been experimented on as a child. She herself was a component in the weird and world altering cases they were investigating. Even if she wanted to, she knew she could never escape her fate, and when she met Peter she had no idea he would be intrinsically tangled up in it.

For Peter, it was ending his estrangement with his father and learning the dark secrets the research scientist held in his mind. He had been thrown into these scientific cases with their extreme explanations and his life had never been so chaotic and dangerous. Peter had always been an outsider and a loner, but something unexpected had happened, he found a family, and for the first time in his life he understood what that meant. And then there was Olivia, she had unintentionally found a way into his heart.

"Maybe I can offer some suggestions on shoring up the perimeter. You better get Broyles to make an introduction, otherwise, they'll think I'm here to do a coffee run."

Olivia gave him a little smile and they walked towards the command center.

* * *

"Detective Beckett? Seeley Booth."

She reached out and shook his hand and saw the same concern, fear and anticipation in his eyes that were in her own.

"How's the rescue effort, what are they saying?" The FBI Agent had arrived to find the area was full of activity and anxiety.

"They're digging them out by hand, the heavy equipment caused another..." Beckett looked away, she couldn't finish the statement.

"The command area is there." A group of men with hard hats had blueprints of the terminal spread out on a makeshift table, three of them appeared to be engineers and one was Peter Bishop. "I have yet to find the right person who can give me a straight answer. The only one who seemed forthcoming was a CBI Agent." Her frustration was tangible.

"This is what we're dealing with." They walked over to the yellow police tape.

"Good God..."

"I know, I don't see these kind of things in homicide cases, and whatever is behind that curtained off area is important enough to bring out DHS, an FBI agent and a consultant from Boston." Beckett's dark brown eyes bore a hole through the destruction.

"Has there been any more contact with them? Can't they string microphones down there?" He thought aloud as he analyzed the destruction in front of him.

"The last contact was the call they made to me." Beckett's patient demeanor suddenly vanished and was replaced by rage. "Is there anyone who can tell us what the hell is going on here?" She spat out the words and her eyes flashed angrily, two of the engineers looked up and stared at her.

Booth placed his hand on her arm. "Listen, that's my partner down there too. We will get them out alive, you need to believe that. I want to talk to the Agent from Boston, maybe we can get more information."

She calmed herself by taking a deep breath, closing her eyes and slowly exhaling. Once composed, she walked toward the cluster of people at the command center.

Booth took another look at the men working diligently to clear away the debris. It was beyond painful to know Bones was down there, he remembered the Gravedigger and his own experience being trapped in a confined space. He told himself he had to keep his heart in check if he was going to be effective, but there was a piece of him that was consumed with anguish. He closed his eyes and said a prayer, but his concentration was interrupted when he felt his cell phone buzzing in his pocket.

He checked it and it contained one extremely important word from Brennan's phone. " _alive_ "


	3. Promises

Patrick Jane will tell you, he's not a psychic. Instead, he has honed his skills in recognizing the signs people display. Body language, facial expressions, their syntax, the tone of their voice are all dead give-a-ways, and so is their choice of dress, the colors they choose and even the way they smell. If you arrange these signs thoughtfully and carefully, they form a picture or a story, and a story was materializing as he observed the New York City Homicide Detective, the FBI Agent from Washington, DC. and the unusual team of three from Boston.

When Booth told the others about the text message from Brennan's phone, it gave the rescue effort the boost they needed and the workers picked up the pace with renewed urgency and purpose. Both Booth and Beckett were energized, and out of their optimism grew a newly formed sense of solidarity and trust. Jane knew they had let their defenses down when he overheard them talking.

 _"I sent a text, to let them know we're here." Booth swiped his fingers through his hair. "You know,_ _we've worked together for over five years._ _" He_ _explained, a lost look about him._ _"It took us a while to find our rhythm,_ _we approach most things from opposite ends of the field, but we always end up in the same place._ _Bones and I, we're not alike, but then we are." He searched her face, wanting her to understand. "How long have you worked with Castle?"_

 _Beckett's hard exterior softened. "Two years. At first he was annoying and aggravating, I thought he was self absorbed and an opportunist, but truthfully he's been a huge help in closing cases. Castle's not a cop and he's offered up something that's really different. He's smart, funny, generous and loves his daughter and mother. The novels he written don't begin to tell you what he's really made of. He's a good man." She gave up a little smile, thinking about him. "Can I ask you a personal question?"_

 _He answered it before she asked it. "No, we aren't together, I mean, we aren't involved in that way. The truth is, we're everything to each other, just not that."_

 _"I think I know what you're talking about." There was empathy in her voice_ _. "_ _If you're honest, it means you care more than you think you should, but not enough to jeopardize the relationship. Have you told her how you feel?"_

 _"I don't have to, she knows, and one of these days we'll stop acting like it doesn't exist. I guess it's enough, knowing we can count on each other." He saw the look in her face. "What about you?"_

 _"I get what you're saying, and I think he feels the same way, but he's never actually said it..._ _God, I just hope I get the chance to…." She stopped, the lump in her throat silenced her.  
_

 _Booth felt her despair. "Listen Beckett, you… me… we don't want to walk away from this without saying we did everything we could to bring them back… and we will bring them back."_

 _She swallowed hard and looked him straight in the eye. "You're right, and when they are back, I'm not going to forget we had this conversation."  
_

 _"I don't think I could forget, even if I tried."_

Denial conjures up all kinds of feelings that are hard to pin down. Jane knew that Detective Beckett and Agent Booth might be used to living with jealous pangs or longing looks, but neither would be able to live with the grief that comes from regret. It's not enough to think others may know how you feel, because it's your declaration of feelings that makes it real.

Beckett held her arms close around her, her dark hair and eyes, the almost exotic looks she was blessed with had somehow gone pale. She asked the right questions, paid attention to detail and was professional in manner, but whether it was fatigue or fear, she looked like a piece of twine pulled so tight it would break at any time. Jane saw himself when he looked at her, he couldn't have known about her mother's unsolved murder, but he knew she lived with more than her fair share of unresolved emotions and confusion. She had feelings for her partner, they weren't clear, not even to her, but he knew they existed. He dismissed these thoughts, they made him think of Lisbon and he didn't want to go there.

He watched Booth pace the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and constantly checking his phone with the other, looking, hoping and waiting for another message. His five o'clock shadow, the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled clothing reflected his fear and anxiety. Jane was moved when he saw him close his eyes and pray, he knew it was an intensely personal and meaningful gesture and he knew the FBI Agent was in love with his partner.

He looked at Lisbon and wondered if she had been upset when he had been abducted and if she would ever care enough to say a prayer for him. She had become a central person in his life, someone who provided stability and purpose. He had rejected certain feelings he had for her, not the ones that had to do with respect and admiration, but the ones that made him ache for the loss of affection and intimacy in his life. These emotions were still too painful to be dealt with, they affected his judgment and blurred his obsession with finding the serial killer who had murdered his wife and daughter, but after seeing and feeling what Beckett and Booth were going through, he found he was at odds with himself.

He lost his train of thought when Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho walked in. Rigsby looked around at the tired workers before spotting Lisbon. "Hey Boss, you and Jane need to go back to the hotel, get some rest." The three of them had returned after they had agreed to take shifts and he hovered over her.

Lisbon nodded wearily. "You're right, but call me if anything happens, we're all invested in this now. You see those two? She's NYPD and he's FBI, their partners are the ones buried under there. They won't leave, and watch what you say, she especially might shoot you."

"That woman," she pointed toward Olivia "She's FBI from Boston and that man over there working with the blueprints is her partner. They know something about that cylinder. Keep your ears open."

"Okay Boss." Rigsby answered.

She looked over at Jane "You coming? I can ask the hotel if you can sleep on their couch in the lobby." She tried to sound funny, but was too weary to laugh.

Jane smirked at her and brushed the dust off of his pants, it created a little cloud around him. "I'll catch up with you in a bit, go… get some sleep."

She looked at him suspiciously and knew something was up. "Keep an eye on him." She muttered to Cho.

"You know I will." Cho's stoney expression never changed.

Lisbon gathered up her jacket and said her good byes. She looked wistfully at Patrick Jane, she knew it shouldn't matter, but she wished he were coming with her. The last 24 hours had been a fireworks display of emotions and it was at times like this that she didn't want to be alone. Her family was her CBI team, and Jane's addition to it was more than another professional relationship. She couldn't tell you when it happened, but he had become more than a consultant with extraordinary insights, he had become someone she had grown to care for. She sighed to herself as she walked away, and forced herself to think about a hot shower and comfortable bed.

Jane purposely avoided being alone with her, it was much easier to deny his feelings, then confront them. Instead, he allowed himself to be distracted by the chemistry between Van Pelt and Rigsby. Their working relationship made it difficult for them to be together, but their feelings for each other did not, and he thought they were brave, genuine and perfectly matched to each other.

"Look at them Wayne, they're both so sad, it's heartbreaking." Van Pelt murmured, nodding her head toward Booth and Beckett, she was compassionate to a fault. "What if their partners don't come out of this alive?"

"Grace, we have to hope for the best." He stood with his back toward the others and discretely took her hand in his rubbing the back of it with his thumb. The angelic look on her face was filled with love, and he not so discretely leaned toward her and whispered something in her ear.

Jane had become accustomed to catching the two CBI Agents in an intimate moment or two, and normally he could ignore their small displays of affection, but it seemed all eyes were on them, including Booth and Beckett's. His curiosity was peaked, when he saw Cho and his unreadable expression, walk towards the Detective and Agent. Jane stepped closer, interested in what the expert interrogator was up to.

Cho's unaffected manner was to the point, he didn't bother with introductions and launched into what was on his mind. "See them? They work together, in the office and out in the field. In the beginning they tried to hide their feelings for each other but instead of pretending they didn't care, they decided to be honest about it." He looked at Booth first, then at Beckett. "You might think that's wrong, but believe me, the lie was worse." He stared at them for a moment before turning to an eavesdropping Jane. "Wouldn't you agree?" An awkward silence followed Cho's reality check, but it was suddenly interrupted by the excited sounds of the rescue workers.

One of the missing had been found! A medical team was being lowered down along with a one man rescue basket. Everyone watched with trepidation as the victim was uncovered and extracted from under a pile of debris and dirt. One of the workers gave a thumbs up, the victim was alive and the din of relieved and excited voices filled the area. They watched as the medics gave him a cursory exam, before stabilizing his neck and strapping him to a board and lifting him into the basket. He was pulled out of the enormous pit and carried toward an aid car where another set of medical personnel continued to work on him.

Beckett's elation at knowing someone was rescued alive was shattered when she realized it wasn't Castle. She walked away, isolating herself from the others. Booth started to follow, but hung back, deciding to give her some space. Instead he talked to Rigsby and Van Pelt, while purposely ignoring Cho.

From the background, Jane watched the rescue effort, and in his range of vision, Agent Broyles appeared. The man exuded an aura of authority and intimidation, he seemed genuinely concerned for the missing people but it didn't take a person with heightened observational skills to know his team were here because of the mysterious cylinder. Broyles may have been in charge, but he intuitively knew Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop were the ones to go to for answers.

He watched as Olivia silently communicated with her partner. She was all about purpose and truth, and even looked the part with her blonde hair, fair complexion and honest eyes. As forthcoming as Olivia appeared, Peter Bishop was full of secrets. He was tall, boyishly handsome, and uncomfortable and out of place. Each of them was an enigma, a combination of integrity and a relentless drive, but underneath it, he sensed they were wounded. She was as protective of him as he was of her, and the feelings they had for each other were deep.

When Olivia caught him scrutinizing them, Jane felt as though the woman was in his head, and this was different and unsettling. He picked up his coat and quietly walked out, the hum of the exhausted rescue workers and airport personnel surrounded him, but he could only think about the missing authors and the people who cared about them. As he shuffled through the crowd, something compelled him to look up. He saw the edge of a bald head, the face that belonged to it looked at him curiously, before disappearing behind the crowd.

* * *

"Rick?" Brennan whispered, her voice was raspy from the dust and dirt. Her lips and mouth were parched and dry as she tried to swallow.

"Phone…" Castle's voice was small, unlike his usual hearty tone. " I sent a text, let them know, we're alive." His voice was barely audible.

Brennan felt relief when she heard his voice and realized he was still near by.

The phone chimed, jarring them.

"I remember talking to Kate... She said she was coming..." He gasped out a chuckle. "She's probably pissed off at me."

"…hardly your fault."

"I know that…" Castle grunted as he freed his hand, still clutching Brennan's phone. With his fingers wrapped around it, he felt for the indentation and when he pressed it, a small glimmer of light illuminated his face. He turned his head and closed his eyes as his pupils dilated.

The small amount of light was enough to let them know how fortunate and how dire their circumstances were. The metal beam that had Castle pinned down had shifted, and debris covered him, but it had kept his head and upper body from being crushed. Brennan still lay in between pieces of the ceiling and wall and it had kept her from being smothered, but the complete absence of light, the thick air, and the large amounts of dirt on top of them, told them, they were buried alive.

Castle held the phone up to his face. The message from Booth was simple, _"we're here and we'll get you out."_

"Temperance, they're here."

"Booth will find us." Brennan murmured.

"You have a lot of faith."

"He uses his heart."

"Your partner?" Castle whispered."

"Rick, I never told him."

"He's going to find us, and you can tell him, that you love him. Temperance… promise?"

"I promise."

"Me too."

The light from the cell phone went off as it fell out of Castle's grasp and into the dirt. Brennan reached out into the dark, groping until she found his hand. She curled her fingers around his, and felt him do the same, it was enough to remind them they weren't alone and had promises to keep.


	4. Rescue

Peter marked on the blueprint in front of him. "You have to approach it from this angle and shore up the walls as you dig down. The force you have to counter is here." He pointed and circled an area with his marking pen. "This hot spot has to be stabilized and we have to create a shaft where the oxygen can travel." He paused and looked at the skeptical faces of the men and women who had gathered around the plywood and sawhorse table.

With his rakish appearance and casual attire, he looked more like he'd spent a night out at the bars than studying blueprints with Homeland Security. His past was complicated, it included having a paper published while a tenured engineering professor at MIT, a position he had gained under fraudulent circumstances. He knew these dubious credentials rarely instigated confidence in others, but Olivia never doubted his brilliance and she went to Broyles, and he agreed, anything he had to offer was of value.

"Use the temporary fencing, secure it with stakes. It's a quick fix and will buy you more time. I'd be lying if I didn't say it was without risks, but it can work. The thermal imaging equipment DHS brought in tells us two warm bodies are still down there. If you want to save them, you have to do something, time is running out."

The engineers looked and listened, the lead finally spoke. "He's right, if we want to bring them out alive, this is the way."

Peter Bishop was a wild card, he had spent his life appearing unannounced, making a play and disappearing back into the fold. He lived on a temporary time line of his own making and his relationships were always fluid, until now. He walked away from the engineering team and towards Olivia, the little lines around his eyes, that instantly cheered her up, appeared when he smiled.

"It should work, the fire hazard was a sticking point, but their options have dwindled." He walked with her to a table that had been set up with bottled water and thermoses of hot coffee.

"Detective Beckett and Agent Booth reminded me there are people's lives at stake here, not just a weird and unexplainable cylinder of undetectable material and purpose." Olivia added, looking at Booth and Brennan.

"Liv, what does Broyles want to do about the cylinder?" He poured himself a cup of black coffee and raised it to his lips.

"He's hoping they'll get Dr. Brennan and Richard Castle out of there safely and the others are less likely to question it's removal from the site." Olivia looked over at the strange object, her subtle grace and quiet beauty manifested itself in an array of emotions and facial expressions.

"Whatever that thing is, it comes with a whole lot of questions, one of which is Walters reaction and attitude towards it." He took a deep breath and exhaled, clearing his thoughts. "But, you're right, the focus should be on saving those two missing people down there."

Olivia furrowed her brow and looked up at Peter. "There's one thing I wanted to talk to you about, it's the CBI consultant, Patrick Jane."

"You mean the _'I just pay attention, there's no such thing as a mind reader'_ guy with the blonde curls and soulful eyes?"

Olivia looked taken aback by his description.

"Believe it or not, Walter and I bonded over daytime talk shows and Patrick Jane has been on them all. It's really a tragedy, what happened to his wife and daughter. They've never caught their killer, Red John, and he's killed others since then. Jane must be filled with guilt and self-loathing."

"You are full of surprises, Peter Bishop… constantly full of them." Olivia remarked.

Peter gave her a half smile. "Of course I am."

She gave up a half smile herself, but the amused expression on her face quickly faded. "Peter, I don't know what's going on with him, but he knows something, I saw it in his face. I can't put my finger on it, but I know he…"

"...has acute observational skills, he may know more about you than you know about yourself."

"He and Agent Lisbon left to get cleaned up and get some rest, they'll be back and I want to talk to him, but I don't want this to become some kind of head game."

"Okay, Agent Dunham, I got your back." He gave her a cocky smile. "If you start clucking like a chicken, I'll shoot him" he quipped, but the lighthearted look on his face turned serious when he looked at her expression. He would never let her down or disappoint her if he could help it and she felt the same way. It wasn't necessary to verbalize this understanding, they just knew they would be there for each other.

Their thoughts were interrupted when they heard the beginnings of a heated discussion.

"Agent Broyles, these rescuers are exhausted, we need to bring in some relief workers for them." One of the rescue supervisors, a woman named Karen, demanded.

"I understand your situation, you can bring in as many workers as you need, but we have a national security risk here, they have to go through our screening process." Broyles countered.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be, just what are your priorities, anyway?" She sniped. "I need three workers, now, not after you've fooled around with your data bases."

"My priorities are the same as yours, and they include doing my job." Broyles said harshly, chasing thoughts of shape shifters out of his mind.

"Agent Broyles." Booth stepped forward, he and Beckett had heard them arguing. "Let us down there, we can help. Beckett and I are both law enforcement and have disaster training."

"Same here." Rigsby added from among the gathering crowd.

Broyles crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "You don't need my permission."

A hint of doubt mixed with relief crossed the woman's face. "Okay, anyone who goes down there, follows my instructions, and everyone wears protective gear."

* * *

Peter, Cho and Van Pelt agreed to monitor the stability of the site and spot the rescuers, while Olivia and Broyles oversaw the security clearances and quietly made arrangements to move the cylinder.

"You need to be cautious, the earth is unstable and what's left of the building keeps shifting." Peter told them. "The generator is pumping oxygen down to them and we're still getting pictures that show their warm, but anything can happen, so hurry."

Booth, Beckett and Rigsby had been outfitted with harnesses and hard hats. Karen went first, and the others followed, they were lowered into the massive hole one at a time, first Rigsby, than Booth and finally Beckett. She unhooked the cable from the harness she wore and handed it to one of the tired workers.

The worker's face was smudged with dirt and fatigue. "Karen's in charge, so you listen to her."

Rigsby turned to Booth and Beckett, "Understood?" They nodded in agreement. They watched as one of the workers was brought out, while the other three waited for their turn.

"Okay, let's get to work." Karen ordered, her dark curly hair peeked out from under her helmet. "Every piece we move has to be treated with kid gloves. No sudden movements, that last cave in set us back in hours of rescue time." She looked over at Booth, "You can be my partner - Agent Rigsby, Detective Beckett, you're on the other side."

They positioned themselves and began removing pieces of wallboard, splintered wood, and chunks of concrete with exposed rebar. Glass and wires intermixed with dirt covered everything and they worked tirelessly next to Karen, removing the collapsed building piece by piece. The debris was painstakingly cleared away and dumped into large containers, where they were hauled up and disposed of just outside of the rescue area.

It seemed they had been at it for hours and their work barely made a dent, until they slid a piece of wallboard over.

Beckett was the first to see her. "Booth, look, she's there!"

Brennan's legs came into view as they struggled to move the piece of ceiling off of her, she lay amidst the broken shards of glass and crumbled pieces of sheet rock, one of her arms was extended out and next to her hand, lay another hand, one that belonged to Richard Castle.

Booth carefully brushed aside the dirt and debris from her head and face, he shook off his work glove and felt her neck, and found a faint pulse. He looked at the others with pure relief, she was alive. He barely heard the workers cheer when Karen gave the thumbs up, he could only hear his own heart hammering in his chest as he took her hand in his.

His touch was like a lifeline for Brennan, she could feel the warmth from his hand and responded by twitching her fingers. Booth felt it, and part of the fear that had gripped him since the moment he had first taken her phone call more than 48 hours ago, shifted from dread to hope.

"Bones, it's okay…" he said to her in a soothing voice. "We're going to get you out. I'm here."

He felt along the length of her arms and shoulders, while Karen checked her legs for broken bones. She helped turn her over slowly, while Booth supported her head. Brennan winced but opened her eyes and the faintest of smiles crossed her face as she saw Booth looking down at her.

In the meantime, Beckett and Rigsby pitched away pieces of rubble in an effort to uncover Castle. They discovered his situation was much more dire when the metal beam that lay across him wouldn't budge. Beckett knelt beside him, she could see he was still breathing, his chest rising ever so slowly.

"Castle? It's me, Kate. We're going to get this thing off of you, just hang on, okay?" She held his hand and when he squeezed it, tears spilled from her eyes.

"What are we going to do? How are we going to move this?" Beckett barked. She looked up at Peter and Cho, they were lowering down the cable that was used to pull up the containers they filled with debris.

"Wrap this around it." Peter yelled down. "Secure it and we'll pull it off."

Rigsby grabbed the cable and he and Booth did their best to tie it around the beam.

Peter and Cho exchanged a worried look before turning the switch on, the weight of the beam concerned them. As the cable grew taut, the beam lifted off of Castle, his crumpled body lay askew at an awkward angle, Beckett wanted to pull him away but feared she would make his injuries worse, instead she leaned down and spoke to him.

"Castle, Alexis and Martha are waiting to see you. I told them we were going to bring you out. I told them you loved them." She kept her voice steady and dabbed at the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

"Kate... I knew you'd come..." he mumbled.

A medical team were readying themselves to be lowered down, but before they could proceed, the ground began to rumble and vibrate. The beam swayed precariously and almost hit Beckett, but she managed to dodge it.

"We have to hurry, this may not hold!" Rigsby yelled, he could see cracks forming in and around the edge of the hole they were in.

"We have to get them out of here NOW! It's going to cave!" Karen shouted. She saw Booth's dark and grim expression as he picked Brennan up in his arms and stumbled over to the cable that Cho and Van Pelt had dropped down.

Beckett looked at Rigsby and he moved quickly, pulling Castle out from under the suspended metal beam and picking him up in a fireman's hold, they all staggered toward Booth and Karen.

The light from the cylinder grew brighter and it started to hum, the ground continued to rumble and vibrate with more intensity.

"Wayne!" Van Pelt shouted. "We can lower a rescue basket down!" Her words were muffled as the ground began to roll and debris scattered about, as if it were being shaken in a pan.

"There's no time! Booth! We have to latch your harness to the cable, you're going to have to carry her while they bring you up!" Rigsby shouted above the noise from the cylinder, it had gone from a hum to a high pitched whine.

He nodded and hoisted Brennan over his shoulder while Beckett and Karen fought to open the carabiner and attach it to his harness. The two women signaled to Peter and Cho and the cable slowly brought Booth and Brennan up, the ground shook and they swung back and forth as if they were on the end of a rope swing, but Peter and Cho reached out and grabbed them and lowered them to the ground. Van Pelt rushed over and helped Booth with Brennan, and the medical team descended on them.

"Beckett! Here!" Peter cried out. They had lowered another cable down, this time Rigsby had Castle over his shoulder and Beckett worked on getting the carabiner latched onto his harness. Once attached, she let go and watched as they slowly rose up. She felt relief wash over her, when Van Pelt and Cho reached over and grabbed Rigsby and lowered him onto the ground, the medics helped lay Castle down and went to work on him.

"Karen! Beckett!" Peter cried out again. "Here!" He lowered another cable down and Beckett grabbed it and latched it to Karen's harness. She piggybacked herself on Karen's back and held on.

"GO!" Beckett shouted. "NOW!" Peter turned the switch and they started their ascent out of the hole. The cylinder was humming at a deafening frequency and the ground above them and under their feet started to crumble. The cable swayed, wrenching Beckett away from Karen. She felt herself falling but suddenly her body jerked as Karen grabbed her arm. Beckett dangled by one arm, she looked down and saw the hole below them implode, and she hung on and prayed.

"Christ!" Cho yelled, he and Peter reached out for the two women, but the flashing lights from the cylinder blinded them. On their second try, they caught Beckett legs and the two women landed on the ground with a thud. They scrambled to their feet and everyone ran toward the other end of the terminal.

"Grace!" Rigsby called out. Van Pelt came running toward him and he embraced her in his arms. The display of human emotion was humbling to the others as they realized what could have been lost.

Booth and Beckett hovered over their partners, attempting to keep themselves together as the medical team continued to work on them.

Peter felt as though he had held his breath for the last hour and the adrenalin that coursed through him started to subside. He looked out amongst the crowd of rescue workers for Olivia. He couldn't find her but he spotted Broyles.

He was sitting on the ground, slouched against a wall, holding a a blood soaked bandage to his temple, he looked up at Peter and they made eye contact. No words needed to be exchanged, Peter knew something seriously wrong had happened, and it had happened to Olivia.


	5. Fate

"Lisbon? Come on now, hurry up." Jane turned around to see her lagging behind with her phone to her ear.

"We'll check it out." She ended the call looking irritated.

"That was Cho, you know it's really a miracle they weren't all killed. Rigsby, Agent Booth and Detective Beckett, they could all be buried down there... but that's not why he called. Agent Dunham's gone missing. She and Broyles had left the rescue site, presumably to work on security issues. When her partner went to find her, he discovered Broyles had been knocked on the head, and she was gone. Port security is on it, but I think we should canvas the terminals, see if we can find out anything."

"What's happened with that cylinder?" Jane stopped abruptly, causing Lisbon to run into him.

"Good question. During the seismic event, both Van Pelt and Cho described it like something out of a movie, lights flashing, ear shattering noises and the ground shaking and rolling. When the dust settled, it was gone."

"Gone? Where?"

"That's what Broyles wants to know." Lisbon started walking, leaving Jane behind. "Come on now, hurry up." There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

When Van Pelt had called, she was fresh from the rescue and the subsequent adrenalin high, and she rattled on with excitement.

 _"Yeah Boss, it was awesome, Dr. Brennan and Castle are in pretty good shape for being buried under that building, they're waiting to be airlifted out, but the terminal is a mess and it's been impossible to get the Med-Vac in, they're clearing a space for them now. Agent Booth and Detective Beckett haven't left their sides, talk about devotion, and Cho and Peter Bishop, they were amazing, I don't think I'll ever forget seeing Wayne being pulled up out of that hole with Mr. Castle on his back._ _Karen the rescue supervisor, told me she had never worked with such an incredible group, she's not sure anyone else could have pulled this off!"_

Lisbon hadn't been able to ask many questions, the young CBI agent was too hyped up, instead she called Jane and they left immediately to return to the airport. _  
_

This time, Jane hurried to catch up with Lisbon, as she headed toward the TSA checkpoint and into the terminal. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, he might be the one with impressive insights and abilities into a person's behavior, but she knew he was keeping something to himself, he was hiding something.

They walked through the terminal and saw Peter Bishop arguing with a man from Homeland Security, Lisbon thought the Agent looked confused, but on second glance, he looked useless and Peter Bishop was enforcing these feelings ten fold.

"Mr. Bishop, Agent Cho called me." Lisbon saw he was exhausted and tormented and she did her best to look reassuring. "We'd like to help, can you bring us up to date?"

Peter dismissed the DHS agent and calmed himself with a deep breath, he was wary of the CBI, but knew his friends were few and far between. "I went to find her, but I found Broyles, he had been hit with something like a stun gun and fell, hitting his head. There were no witnesses and no one has seen her." Peter rubbed his face with his hands, as if it would bring clarity. He knew that Olivia was strong and capable, but he also knew there were strange and dangerous forces at work.

"Mr. Bishop," Lisbon inquired gently. "In addition to Agent Dunham's disappearance, I understand the cylinder is gone as well. Do you think this is related?"

Jane scoffed, and his scornful expression wasn't lost on Peter and he glared at him.

Lisbon gave Jane an admonishing look. "Okay, let's not play games here, if you know something, anything, come clean. I don't think any of us are feeling all that patient."

"Not me. I don't play games." He raised his hands defensively, his tone mocking. Jane liked being one up in every situation, but when he realized that Peter Bishop saw right through him and could knock his head off quite easily, he reconsidered his position. "What do you know about a middle aged, white male, medium height, bald, wearing an old fashioned gray suit?"

Peter didn't even try to hide his feelings. "What about him, have you seen him?"

Lisbon intervened by placing her hand on Peter's arm. "Maybe you should tell us what you know." She suggested. "Maybe we could both be forthcoming with each other." She gave Jane a stern look.

Peter, his defenses down, blinked slowly before speaking. "The man you described, we call him The Observer. He shows up at certain scientific related events, what we call The Pattern. Don't ask me to explain, even if I could, I've been sworn to secrecy. I had an encounter with him when I first started working with Olivia, and yes, it had to do with that cylinder." Peter distinctly remembered the bizarre interaction with the bald headed man, who had literally been inside his head.

"Is he dangerous? We can put his description out, see if we can't pick him up for questioning." Lisbon added, taking her phone from her pocket.

"Teresa, it won't do any good." Jane interrupted her.

"What? And why is that?" Lisbon looked at the two men and the invisible dialogue they shared.

Peter crossed his arms in front of him and acknowledged Jane with a nod. "He's right, the Observer is a ghost, you don't find him, he finds you." He narrowed his eyes at Jane. "Olivia knew you were keeping information to yourself. What aren't you telling us?"

Jane looked at him with more than trepidation. "I think I've seen this man before."

* * *

Castle's face was as bruised and battered as his body, both legs and his neck were immobilized and he had been given an I.V. drip of fluids and morphine. He held Beckett's phone to his ear, his hands and tongue felt like they were covered with woolen mittens. "Alexish, sweeheart, tell your granmuther I'm gonna to be fine… Thas right, Kate is here. I toll you, I'm in good hans... I love ya both." Castle smiled into the phone, he looked at it with loving albeit hazy eyes before Beckett reached over and rescued it.

"Better living through chemicals, right Castle?" She chuckled to herself. "You're really lucky, the doctor says you may not even need to have surgery, you have a fractured tibia, a couple of broken ribs and the face of a prize fighter."

"It dozen even hurt." His eyelids drooped and his words ran together. "Great-stuff-for-my-book."

"Just how are you going to incorporate this into your next book?"

"I dunno? Nikki Heat… swingin' from rafters, in a harness?"

"Castle!" Beckett scolded, but her face was lit up with humor.

He gave her a goofy grin. "Yah, gotta keep it PG… my readers will love it."

She gave him a sunny smile, and reached for his hand.

He looked at her and his grin wilted. "Kate…" His eyes became glassy with emotion. "Thank you."

"It's okay, I'll let you make it up to me." Her voice was soft.

"How so?" He closed his eyes and drift off.

Beckett, touched his cheek with the back of her hand, "I'll figure out something." She murmured.

She watched him sleep, and did her best to ignore the longing she felt inside herself. A week ago they had been work colleagues, he was a writer doing research and looking for ideas, and she was a cop, not girlfriend material for someone like Castle. Neither could deny a spark had ignited between them, but Castle acted uncharacteristically cautious, and somehow this made Beckett feel exposed and insecure. Now, at this very moment, it seemed destiny was determined to bring them together.

She laughed at herself, _destiny_? Must be what fatigue and near death does to you, she thought, but when she looked up and saw Booth sitting next to Brennan, she remembered.

 _"Listen Beckett, you… me… we don't want to walk away from this without saying we did everything we could to bring them back… and we will bring them back."_

 _"You're right, and when they are back, I'm not going to forget we had this conversation."  
_

 _"I don't think I could forget, even if I tried."_

Beckett looked over at Booth and it felt like she were watching events through a window. She overheard them talking, and it was all too familiar. _  
_

"They still don't know what caused the collapse, it's almost like the building was sucked down into the ground." The tired lines on Booth's face were dusted with grime, but his heart felt light.

The medic had hooked Brennan up to an I.V., closed the cut on her arm with suture tape, put her ankle on ice and cleaned the abrasions on her face. Booth sat down next to her, took her hand and played with her fingers. The color had returned to her face, and although she was covered with bits and pieces of the building that had collapsed on her, he thought she looked beautiful.

Brennan watched their fingers intertwine. "Booth, I knew you wouldn't let me down, I knew you would come for us."

"Well I am _Special_ Agent Seeley Booth." He charmed her with a little smile.

"Your actions were heroic." She was her usual blunt and unaffected self.

"I did what I needed to do…and I didn't do it alone. Karen, the rescue leader and Kate Beckett were both on top of their game, and Rigsby, his instincts kicked in, he's the real hero." He hesitated for just a moment. "I also asked for some help from him." He pointed upward, a gesture she had seen before.

"You mean you prayed?" Brennan's voice wavered ever so slightly.

He gave her the warmest of smiles. "It's a no brainer, I always ask for a little extra when the time is right. Maybe this is that cosmic scorecard keeping track."

"Anthropologically speaking, prayer is a ritual that gives comfort, a sense that we can control, what in fact is beyond our control, a way to explain our misfortunes and…"

"And your point is?"

"That I appreciate your belief in God, and when you feel the need, you ask him or her for help." She looked almost bashful.

"It's a partner thing." He reassured her, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. The way she looked at him said more than words could convey, and both knew something had changed between them.

When Booth finally looked up, he saw Beckett watching, and a moment of understanding passed between them.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was the persistent, white noise of voices, thrumming in her head. When her body stopped tingling, she felt the hard chair against her back and the edge of a table pushed against her abdomen. When she lifted her head, she saw the unexpected gaze of the Observer boring into her. As the fog cleared out of her mind and her senses returned, she looked around and saw she was sitting at a small table next to a picture window. People had gathered, looking out, some pointed and looked frightened, others chattered among themselves, and a few took pictures. She followed their line of sight and saw they were focused across the airport runway, gawking at the surviving half of a building and the gigantic hole in the ground next to it.

Olivia felt detached from her surroundings, like she was encased in a bubble, but the aroma of french fries helped her to realize she was in the food court at the other end of the airport.

"What do you want?" The sound of her own voice echoed inside of her. "Why are you here?"

The Observer cocked his head slightly, he gave her a probing look and he appeared to be perplexed at the sight of the woman in front of him.

"Answer me, I asked you what you want, and why are you here?"

"The departure was on schedule." He spoke with little feeling and ignored her demand for information. "It is important, the bond between them matters."

"What was on schedule? The cylinder? Who and what are you talking about?"

"We have been watching you. You were once known as Olive and you were quite small."

"Why?" Olivia hissed.

"You are also important, your future matters." He answered her with little emotion.

"Why did you bring me here? Surely not to tell me that I'm important?" She spat out the words, she was angry and confused. "What do you want from me?"

"We have seen the consequences of those who interfere. The man, Walter Bishop, his actions have created consequences. Now his son, Peter has done the same, only you can make it right." The Observer blinked at her. "I have said too much."

"You've said nothing! What consequences? Whose side are you on?" Olivia shouted, but the volume of her voice never rose above a whisper.

"Agent Dunham, fate does not take sides." He took a book from his brief case and handed it to her. "I believe this will help you understand."

Olivia took the leather bound book, it had a patina that indicated it had been well handled. "What is this?" She opened the cover and looked at the first page, it was the image of a young boy, maybe three or four years old, he had sandy brown hair and his smile made his eyes crinkled up. Olivia studied the image and felt overwhelmed with emotion, the boy looked familiar, but she wasn't sure from where.

The Observer who stared at her quizzically.

"I don't understand." She seemed almost intimidated.

"You must keep looking." He suggested.

She turned the page and it contained another image, this one made her heart skip a beat. It was Peter sitting cross legged on the ground, he held the young boy in his arms and had a smile on his face that melted her heart. The boy leaned over and had a handful of Olivia's blonde hair in his fist and she leaned into him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It was a family portrait and a glimpse into the future.


	6. Providence

Everyone has a breaking point and Peter was inches from his. "You're saying you've seen the Observer before?" He glowered at the CBI Consultant. "You better tell me what you know, because if anything happens to my partner, and I find out it could have been avoided, then I will come after you."

Lisbon knew he wasn't kidding and she knew this because she would feel the same way if she were in his shoes. Jane was cheeky, unprofessional and infuriating, but she knew why. He might never admit it, but he wanted others to hold him in the same disdain he held for himself, this was his penance for his perceived guilt. She looked at him imploringly. "Don't listen to his threats, tell him what you know because it's the right thing to do."

Hiding behind his cynical persona, deflecting comments of care or reproach, Jane rarely let others near him. When he finally met Lisbon's eye, the smug look on his face faded, and she was surprised to see his hard veneer crack.

His face clouded over. "My memories are fragmented and the details come and go. Piecing it together is like walking a tightrope and then finding the rope just drops off into nowhere. Sometimes I hear something, see something, smell something, and it comes after me, like now."

"At one point there were people everywhere. Police, the medical examiner, reporters, and neighbors, they were vultures flying in circles above my home. When they wheeled the bodies of my wife and daughter out of the house, there was a mob of people standing behind a police barricade and fifty sets of eyes on my family, their chatter was like fingernails on a chalkboard. When I turned to leave I saw him in the crowd, he had the same vague expression, and this is what I remembered - he wasn't looking at the carnage, he was looking at me."

The sorrow radiated from him and Lisbon could take no more. "Jane, stop. You don't have to say anymore."

Peter saw his grief was real, but the man's feelings were the least of his worries, he needed to find Olivia. "He's been spotted over a dozen times in just the past three months and we don't know why. None of us knows what he wants, but he seems to show up at situations and events that he deems important. A few of those times, so has the cylinder."

"Important? Important to who? This is _my_ _life_ we're talking about, no one else's." The bitterness was evident in his voice.

Lisbon stepped in between the two men and faced Jane. "What happened to your family was tragic, horrible and terribly cruel, but everything that happens to any of us, affects others, and just because the ramifications aren't obvious, doesn't mean it's unimportant." She might never understand his feeling of loss and self incrimination, but she understood that he hurt and because she cared, she shared his pain.

He loathed himself for what had happened to his wife and little girl, a sadistic serial killer had taken innocent lives because of his condescending and pompous actions. He had isolated himself, refusing others help, and was driven by revenge. Lisbon was the first person whose friendship, but more importantly her respect, he felt he could earn. "Teresa, I'm not as selfish as you think."

"I've seen him twice since the building collapsed. The first time he was in the crowd of people after we arrived. The second time was when I was leaving the terminal. You said he followed the cylinder, but even though it's gone, I believe he's still here. If what you say is true, than the reasons, the players and all the consequences are endless."

Peter furrowed his brow. "What does _gone_ mean? The cylinder may be out of sight but it hasn't evaporated. There are others, who are after it, and have tortured and killed for it. Right now, all I care about is finding Olivia." Peter looked at Lisbon with determination. "I need your help, if your partner were missing, what would you do?"

Lisbon didn't hesitate a for a moment. "I'd do everything in my power to find him."

"All right then. If you were a mysterious bald headed man wearing a vintage suit and hat, where would you go?"

"I'd go where I could observe."

* * *

The airport food court continued to buzz with people but Olivia barely noticed her surroundings, and her surroundings paid no attention to her, or the strange looking man she sat with.

She closed her eyes and tried to process what she saw, but one question bounced around in her head. Was this a trick? She looked up from the book the Observer had presented to her and when she spoke, he spoke her exact same words in unison.

"Where did these come from? How do I know they're real? Tell me what this is about?"

He continued to speak in sync with her and she knew he was inside her head, not feeling what she felt, but observing it. She could only stare back at him.

The Observer cocked his head ever so slightly and studied her face. "Look at the images, they will tell you all you need to know."

The pages in the book were yellowed from age, the paper felt soft and worn, and her fingers trembled when she turned the page. Three images of the same young boy appeared before her.

The first one was of a birthday party, a cake with eight candles was perched on a table and frosting and ice cream were smeared around the young boy's mouth. Walter and Astrid were in the background drinking punch and looking pleased. Walter's hair had turned white and his rounded back showed his age, and Astrid beaming smile lit up her face and the faint smattering of gray in her curly hair.

In the next image, Olivia recognized the basement of the Kresge Building and Walter's lab. The boy looked to be about twelve, he looked through a lighted magnifying glass and Peter's large frame leaned over and enveloped him. A robotic arm lay on the work table in front of him and the boy's face was filled with purity and Peter's with adoration. Only a trace of the bad boy persona that Peter had perfected remained, and a stalwart man had taken his place. She centered herself with a deep breath.

In the next image, she wore a blue dress made of lightweight material and her hair was in a neat French twist, a fleeting image of her own mother crossed her mind. Peter looked handsome in a suit jacket over a white dress shirt and denim jeans and Walter wore a linen suit with a bow tie. The young boy had grown tall, his hair was long and dark, but even with a graduation gown and mortarboard atop his head, his lanky physique was evident and his cheeks were rosy. Walter had shrunk with age and seemed tiny compared to the three of them, but his eyes sparkled mischievously into the camera.

If the circumstances of viewing her life and seeing a family she never knew existed were different, she might have been excited and thrilled, but instead she turned the next page with great apprehension.

Olivia studied the boy in the image carefully, he had grown into a pair of broad muscular shoulders and his stance was confident. He wore a holstered gun in a shoulder harness over a black t-shirt and heavy khaki pants tucked into a pair of black laced up boots. In one hand he held a device unfamiliar to her and in the other one he held a duffle bag. He was barely a man, but very much a soldier.

The Observer continued to stare at her. "Please, continue, there is more."

* * *

"The Med-Evac chopper is on it's way to pick you up." Van Pelt told Beckett timidly. She was in awe of the NYPD Detective who had risked her life to save her partner.

Beckett looked at her kindly. "Thank you. I haven't had a chance to tell you how much we all appreciate what you and your team did to help save us. Especially Agent Rigsby." She gave her a big smile. "He's a keeper."

Van Pelt blushed, she was so proud of Rigsby and the Police Detective's remark made her love him even more. "Thanks. I hope it works out for you too."

Beckett felt a twinge, the innocent comment hit a nerve, she turned the words around in her head, but Booth calling out to her chased them away.

"Beckett!"

"Booth!" She responded with a grin and walked toward him and the table with coffee and water. "I know, chopper's on its way. How's your partner doing?"

"I think she's going to be okay. Bones is tough, a lot tougher than I am. Castle?" He poured himself a cup of coffee.

"He's doing a lot better, the drugs and the I.V. fluids have helped, I can tell because he's still a smart ass…" Beckett joked.

"Castle's a lucky guy." Booth said sincerely.

"You know Booth, I think we're all very lucky." She smiled, but shook her head. "They say things happen for a reason, but I don't get this one, we're cops, not Indiana Jones and the Lost Bullet Cylinder. How'd we get tangled up in this?"

"Maybe there is a plan and they just haven't given us the play book. That giant metal suppository doesn't have to mean anything."

"Maybe you're right, but Booth, I'm not forgetting what we talked about. That meant something."

Booth set his coffee down and gave her a hug, patting her on the back. "I agree." The seeds of a serious friendship had been planted. She reached for a paper cup and muttered. "I wish this was bourbon."

He had only left her side to get coffee, but Brennan already missed him. She thought it must be stress that made her feel so needy. She sat up and carefully swung her legs over the edge of the gurney and caught Castle's eye.

"Hey Temperance," He mumbled. "We gotta problem."

"You mean bigger than being buried alive?" She wasn't sure what he referred to.

"How are we gonna decide who gets to use what in our next book?"

She chuckled at the remark. "Hmmm, that is a good question."

"Cards.. we'll play for them." He kidded, visions of a straight flush flashed in front him.

Brennan sounded earnest. "I'm quite good at games. Booth says I have an excellent card face."

Castle chuckled. "Poker face."

Brennan looked over at Castle, strapped down with vacuum splints surrounding him. "Rick, I don't think I could have made it if you hadn't been there."

"Oh yeah, right back at you... Temperance, we have a future again."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter approaching and hovering around above them.

* * *

"Agent Dunham? There is more." The Observer told her. They still sat at the table next to the window in the airport food court, but Olivia might as well have been incarcerated in a padded cell. She looked up at him and at the well worn book sitting on the table. Turning it's pages felt like a game of Russian Roulette, filling her with anxiety, but she continued on.

An image of another family presented itself to her. She recognized Agent Booth, he cradled an infant in his arms, presenting the tiny person to the photographer. He stood next to a woman, who she guessed was Dr. Brennan. She held the hand of a boy with a mop of thick blonde hair. The happiness was evident in their faces, Dr. Brennan looked radiant and Booth looked very proud.

She turned the page and found three more images. In the first, Dr. Brennan wore a blue lab coat and sat in front of a stainless steel table next to a pretty Asian woman, a toddler squeezed between them. The little girl's hair was in a messy ponytail, and she wore a navy blue t-shirt with F-B-I in white block letters printed on it. The three of them were laughing with shared delight.

The next image showed the same little girl who looked to be about seven or eight wearing a white dress with lacy anklets and clean white sneakers. Olivia knew this was a portrait of a first communion when she saw a rosary dangling in her clasped hands.

And the third picture was another family portrait, Booth and Dr. Brennan stood next to the little girl who was now a teenager. Her skinny frame was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a bright blue streak ran through her hair and her eyebrow was pierced, she looked sullen. She stood with her arm through the arm of a grown man, and Olivia recognized he was the boy with the head of thick blonde hair in the first family portrait. He and his father were of equal height and stature, Booth's hair had grayed at the temples but he was still hard and fit. Dr. Brennan looked serious and held Booth's hand. A sad realization blanketed Olivia when she recognized that both men wore the same black t-shirts and heavy khaki pants tucked into black lace up boots.

When Olivia turned the next page, she swallowed hard and held back the tears. The skinny girl with the funky teenage look had grown into a beautiful woman. She looked sleek and sophisticated in a plain beige dress and heels, her hair curled around her face and she was every bit as beautiful as her mother. Next to her stood a handsome man, tall and well built, wearing a formal military dress uniform decorated with ribbons and medals. He held the woman's hand in his and a diamond twinkled on her ring finger. His resemblance to Peter was uncanny, and she knew he was their son.

Olivia's feelings reeled from the story in the images. She still questioned their validity, but a piece of her wanted them to be real. She silently asked the Observer "Why? Why are you showing me these."

He answered her quietly and with little emotion. "You have only begun to understand, they are coming and this man and this woman will make it right."


	7. Omniscient

The helicopter circled the area rocking back and forth, the noise from its engine filled the sky and its blades whisked the dirt into a swirling haze, before landing on the newly cleared tarmac. The doors slid open and two members of the Med-Evac team appeared, the men jumped out and ducked as they ran toward the injured victims.

Brennan and Castle were wheeled out of the staging area with Booth and Beckett at their sides. The paramedics on site held on to their I.V. bags as they escorted them toward the chopper.

"They're both stable, vitals are strong, they're good to go!" He shouted above the engine noise, handing over a stack of paperwork to one of the Med-Evac team.

"We got it!" He tucked the packet into his inside coat pocket. "You two coming with us?" He yelled, looking at Booth and Beckett.

"Yeah, they're our partners!" Booth shouted back.

"Whatever you want to call it! Come on!" He grabbed one end of Brennan's gurney and guided it toward the helicopter. The other medic took hold of Castle and the four of them made their way across the bumpy pathway before lifting them into the chopper. Booth and Beckett jumped in after them. They shook hands with the paramedics, waved good-bye to Rigsby and Van Pelt and disappeared inside before the doors slid close. The chopper lifted up and banked to the left before taking off into the sky.

Van Pelt felt her phone vibrating, she picked it up and saw it was Cho calling, but before she could answer, she saw him running towards them, breathless, waving with his phone in his hand. "STOP THEM! Don't let them take off!" His words trailed off as he watched the helicopter grow smaller in the sky.

Rigsby was alarmed at the concern in Cho's face. "What's going on?"

Cho bent over and struggled to catch his breath. "I just got word, the Med-Evac made an unplanned landing on their way here. They found their pilot dead, two of the three medics wounded, critically, the third was a hijacker. "Whoever was in that Helicopter… we have no idea who they are!"

* * *

"I never got a straight answer, is this Observer armed and dangerous? Shouldn't we get some back up?" Lisbon walked along the concourse with Peter and Jane.

"He's armed and I consider him dangerous, but he's not a killer or an assassin. Broyles has his agents all over the airport, but the Port Authority wants to reopen the runways as soon as possible. They aren't willing to keep it shut down now that all the victims and survivors have been accounted for. NSA's been here for awhile, but their focus is on the cylinder, don't look to them for help." Peter looked grim, thinking about Olivia and knowing anything could happen to her made him anxious.

"In other words, we are working with a bunch of bureaucrats who have their own secretive agendas. That's just great." Jane's snide tone dripped with sarcasm.

Lisbon ignored his comment and checked her watch. "We should check in with each other every twenty minutes. We'll head toward the C terminal, why don't you go toward the food court." She stopped Peter. "You armed?"

Peter shook his head. "It's the bane of a consultant's existence."

Lisbon reached into her blazer and pulled a small pistol out of the small of her back. "Here, we can deal with it later." She discreetly offered it to him.

"Is that wise?" Jane interrupted. "He's not going to make it through any security checkpoints, at least not without a fight."

"He's right, but thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll call you." Peter hurried away, leaving the CBI agents behind.

"He's more worried for her on a personal basis than a professional one. He said it himself, the Observer isn't a killer." Jane watched Peter disappear into the crowded concourse. The further from the collapsed terminal they walked, the more travelers and fewer rescue workers and DHS personnel they encountered.

She looked at him, irritably. "Why can't you just accept that partners watch each others backs? If there's a strong personal connection, we can count on each other to go the extra mile." The frustration was written all over Lisbon's face.

Witnessing the dynamics of her law enforcement peers had been eye opening. It was nothing like watching Van Pelt and Rigsby and their so called clandestine relationship. Agent Booth and Detective Beckett reminded her what it felt like to know your partner was in harm's way, and Agent Dunham had an intensity about her that she rarely saw. Like Jane said, their feelings were personal. She shrugged her shoulders and walked off.

"Maybe a coffee would make you feel less fussy." Jane suggested with a big smile.

* * *

The small table next to the window in the food court, was still occupied by an FBI Agent whose life had been turned upside down, and the strange visitor who was responsible for it. Olivia imagined, this was what it felt like to find out you are a character in a book, whose ultimate purpose had yet to be divulged and whose storyline was still unknown. The initial shock of seeing _what might be_ had subsided enough that she no longer wanted to lash out in anger or disbelief, now she wanted answers.

"What do you mean, they will make it right? Who is coming?"

The Observer sat at the table across from her, his back straight, his hands in his lap. His voice was quiet and held little emotion. "There is more, Agent Dunham. It is best you see for yourself."

Her finger barely touched the surface of the paper, the image of a grown son with a wife seemed too surreal to touch. The sense of foreboding she had experienced was replaced by a feeling of urgency and she turned the page to see what would be next.

* * *

"Agent Booth? I need you to answer some questions." The third medic sitting in the front of the chopper motioned him to come forward.

Booth approached him, and Thomas Jerome Newton smiled, he pulled his weapon out and pointed it at his face. "Hand me your gun very slowly, or my associates will shoot." He nodded, looking beyond Booth.

The deception had completely blindsided Booth and it took him a moment to comprehend what was happening but he looked over his shoulder and saw one of the medics holding a gun to Brennan's head. The other medic had an arm across Beckett's neck, and his gun pointed at Castle, Booth knew he had no choice but to comply. "Okay, easy does it, we don't want anyone to get hurt. What's this about?"

"Your gun, slowly please." Newton smiled wickedly.

Booth did what he was told, he extracted his gun from his shoulder harness and held it out dangling it on his finger, Newton took it from him.

'What's all this about. Who the hell are you?" Booth was as angry at allowing himself to be deceived as he was of being threatened at gunpoint.

"Please, we don't wish to harm you and your colleagues. Whether you know it or not you are linked to something we have been looking for. Something very important." Newton's smug look and superior manner was meant to intimidate. He was polite to a fault and strangely diplomatic for a hijacker.

"My partner needs medical attention! If he doesn't receive treatment, his importance is a moot point." Beckett argued, her brown eyes sparked angrily.

The man who held her captive, squeezed her, causing Beckett to gasp. "Not so, I looked over their chart, neither of their injuries are life threatening." He had taken her weapon away and smirked at the others, enjoying himself as he manhandled her. He purposely used his foot to jostle Castle's gurney.

Beckett struggled against him, but her assailant twisted her arm behind her, causing her to stifle a cry of pain.

"Beckett..." Castle spoke unexpectedly. "Kate, do what he says, please." His eyes were still glazed from the drugs, but he was with it enough to understand what was going on.

"Mr. Castle is right. You can relax, we aren't going to kill you... unless you provoke us." Newton chuckled. He motioned to the man who held a gun to Brennan's head.

The impostor urged Brennan to sit up by grabbing her arm and jerking on it. Booth looked ready to leap on him until Brennan put her hand up.

"Booth, stop." She looked at him intently. "Captors use force, intimidation and violence as a ploy to undermine the confidence of their prisoners." She struggled out of the hijacker's grasp. "We'll cooperate."

Booth hard resolve wasn't going anywhere, but he knew Bones was right. He'd been a soldier and knew that war often brought ruthless and unimaginable tactics. His fists were still clenched, but he backed off.

"You are quite logical, aren't you Dr. Brennan?" Newton said with a hint of admiration. He turned to the others and his polite demeanor turned menacing. "Do it."

The hijacker took Booth and Brennan and forced them to sit on the floor of the chopper with their backs to each other. He tied their hands behind their backs and pulled the piece of rope tight enough that even made Booth start with pain.

"Detective Beckett, which one of you would like to witness the other being punished? "We don't have to go there if you comply with our wishes." Beckett seethed with anger but knew she had to play along.

"Okay, but let me be clear. I'm not afraid of you." She let her captor take her wrists behind her back and tie them with another piece of rope. He pushed her into the corner of the helicopter and looked pleased with himself when she hit the ground and whimpered. Satisfied that she wasn't going anyplace, the hijackers joined Newton at the front of the helicopter and the chopper banked to the left and moved on.

"Beckett?" Castle whispered. "You have to stay alive. I know we can get out of this mess, but only if you're not dead."

* * *

Lisbon and Jane were almost to the C terminal when he suddenly stopped. "Lisbon, are you hungry? 'Cause I'm hungry, when was the last time you ate?"

"Are you kidding me? There's a federal agent missing, not to mention a weird metal cylinder and secretive DHS consultants roaming around and you're hungry?"

"Well, how about a cup of tea?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes and started walking away when the call came in from Van Pelt.

 _"Boss, we got a big problem here. The Med-Evac chopper that picked up Castle and Dr. Brennan? We don't know who is behind it, but they've been kidnapped. Agent Booth and Detective Beckett were abducted with them."_

"What do you mean… they were kidnapped?"

 _"Cho got a call from the LA County Sheriff's department. The chopper was hijacked, the pilot's dead, but one of the Med-Evac team was able to give us a description of the one we didn't see. White male, late 30's, tall with light brown, blonde hair, blue eyes."_

"Christ! How could this happen? Have you talked to DHS or NSA about this?" Not much shocked Lisbon, but this came out of nowhere.

 _"Agent Broyles knows, he looked like he was going to burst a vein in his forehead when we told him. If you see Peter Bishop, tell him to check in with him, he's not picking up."_

"Yeah, okay." Lisbon shut her phone ending the call.

Jane looked at her expectantly. "I guess that means we aren't stopping for lunch."

Lisbon didn't bother with a reply, she called Peter and was surprised when it went directly to voice mail. "Come on, let's see if we can't find Agent Dunham and Peter. Who the hell would want to kidnap Richard Castle and Dr. Brennan?"

"Possibly a book critic?" Jane said under his breath.

They walked the length of the concourse scanning the different waiting areas, looking inside the kiosks that sold magazines, candy and drink. Finding no sign of Agent Dunham, Lisbon abruptly turned around. She called Peter again, and like before it went straight to voice mail.

"Damn it." Lisbon looked annoyed. "Jane, tell me what's going on. Why would Dr. Brennan, Castle and their partners be kidnapped. Why is any of this happening."

"I can't answer those questions, but remember what Peter said? He said the Observer shows up at events he deems important. What if something more important is happening here than we realize? What if we can't see it because we're in the middle of it, maybe we're part of it?" Jane was dead serious.

"I don't even know how to respond to that. Look, we want answers, then lets find the bald headed Observer and Agent Dunham, that's the first step." She thought about what Jane said but knew it was a chicken and egg question, one that she didn't think anyone could answer.

* * *

Olivia had turned the page in the book and instead of an image, she found the front page of a newspaper.

The headline on the article gave her a sinking feeling in her gut, it was something she and Peter had discussed, but only in theory.

 **SOFT SPOTS ON PLANET - MASSIVE DYNAMIC ACCUSED OF COVER UP** **  
WSC Denies Claims of Coming Invasion  
** by Alexis Castle, Exclusive to The New York Times

The byline made her pause, Alexis Castle. Olivia knew this was important, but like everything else in the last year, she filed it in a mental cabinet of questions she now kept locked in her brain. The content of the article didn't surprise her, it talked about Massive Dynamic and their role in unexplainable science related events and the think tank of Doctors and researchers who had worked on many extraordinary discoveries since 2013. It went on to tell about documents that had been uncovered by unknown sources that implicated Massive Dynamic and the WSC on covering up knowledge of specific sites throughout the world, but specifically in the U.S., that would be used as portals for a coming invasion. But when she came to the bottom of the page, she took notice.

 _Adding to the mystery surrounding the work of Massive Dynamic and its subsidiaries, their C.O.O., Nina Sharpe has not been seen in person in over a year, oddly mimicking the disappearance of the multi-conglomerate's founder, William Bell, who has not been seen since 2009._

But the final part of the article was the one that sent a chill through her spine.

 _The unknown source claims to have found proof that an invasion from enemies unknown to us is eminent. The spokesperson for the newly formed World Security Council, Samuel Weiss, has denied all allegations, and condemned it as a ploy to undermine the organization's effectiveness to fight terrorism at home and abroad._

Sam Weiss?

Olivia looked up at the Observer, but he continued to look vague and with little expression.


	8. History

He didn't doubt a connection existed but the common thread eluded him. Where was Olivia? What of the strange cylinder and its significance? Who would kidnap the two authors and their partners? And, what of Patrick Jane's encounter with the Observer? He quickened his pace, his thoughts overlapped one another as he walked down the busy concourse, searching the waiting areas and scanning the faces as they passed by. Finding Olivia was his priority, there had never been someone in his life who he could count on to watch his back, until now and he wouldn't let her down.

At the end of the terminal a lone man in a plain black suit with dark glasses motioned for him to stop. "Sir, may I see some I.D.?" The words were appropriate enough, but his tone was unforgiving and filled with disapproval.

"I've got DHS clearance." Peter had worn his credentials around his neck in plain site, hoping it would give him some credibility, he wished it were a shield instead of a plastic name tag with a bar code. He took another look at him and thought there was something vaguely familiar about him. "Who are you?"

"Are you here because of the incident? I understand that it's been contained and all victims rescued and recovered. May I ask where you are going and why you're in such a big hurry?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you want but I was headed to Food Court, I was looking for my part.. my friend, we were separated, is that a problem?"

"No sir." He was calm and authoritative when he stepped forward and pressed the nuzzle of a gun into Peter's side, grabbing his arm and walking him forward. "Come with me, and we'll see if we can't clear this up.

Peter raised his hands slightly in a defensive posture. "You have no right to detain me, I work under Agent Broyles, let me call him." He started to reach into his pocket but the Man in Black gripped his arm.

"If anyone here gets hurt because of your actions… well I'm sure you wouldn't want that." He made his point by turning Peter toward a woman with three small children.

"I guess this means I'm not getting something to eat." Peter muttered under his breath. "Who the hell are you? Do I know you?"

The man lowered his dark glasses and Peter realized why he looked familiar. John Mosely. Peter had been tortured by this man and had led him to his grandfather's grave, where Walter had buried the cylinder for safe keeping. Peter had been there when Olivia had shot and killed him, he guessed that Shape Shifters live by their own set of rules, one that included not staying dead.

* * *

The vibration from the engine had lulled the exhausted captives into an unsettling trance, they had been airborne for over an hour when the sudden jerk of the helicopter sent them sprawling.

Booth and Brennan were flung against the interior wall, while Beckett was tossed painfully onto her bound wrists and Castle's gurney tugged at the restraints that secured him in place.

The helicopter shook and jostled its passengers before it landed, it's engine and the vibration from the rotation of the blades slowed before coming to a stop. Newton and his team of captors silently gathered their belongings and headed for the door, they ignored their prisoners and filed out one by one.

"You're not leaving us here!" Beckett called out after them, but their response was the thud of the door sliding closed. She made a face and rolled back onto her stomach and like an inchworm with her head on the ground, she managed to push herself up to her knees and with a huge breath, she struggled up onto her feet.

She swayed on wobbly legs and leaned against the wall and once she got her bearings, staggered over to Castle.

"Castle? You okay? Can you hear me?" Beckett was relieved to hear him groan.

"This has turned into a hell of a book tour…" He mumbled.

"Castle, I'm going to try and get your arms loose, when you're free you have to help untie me." She backed up next to the gurney, and felt along the edge until she found the restraint that wrapped over both his arms and torso. It took some doing, but she managed to find the end of the strap and worked it until it gave up some slack.

"Can you get your arms out? Castle, you still with us?"

"Yeah, I'm still here." He grunted pulling one arm free and than the other. They ached from the accident and now that the drugs were wearing off, he felt every sore muscle.

"Can you help me loose this inner tube around my neck?" He muttered.

Beckett felt around and she grabbed hold of it and together they pulled the inflatable neck brace off of him.

Castle took short puffs of breath, trying to control his pain and getting his circulation going, he started feeling better until he shifted his weight and was reminded he had two broken ribs.

"Kate, back up, you have to get a little closer I can't reach the knot with both hands."

Beckett leaned backward, but when that failed, she nudged him over with her hip. "I'm going to get up on the gurney next to you, okay?" Luckily his broken leg was on the other side and she leaned back and placed her hands on Castle's chest, being careful of his injuries.

"Can you get at the knot now?"

"Kate… careful… I think this is another one of those Nikki Heat moments." He was still sluggish from the drugs but worked at the knot diligently. "Nikki… ropes…. Bondage…"

"If you can get me out of this, I'll help you write the chapter." She said wincing as he picked at her bonds.

"Booth? Dr. Brennan? Are you all right?" Beckett called out.

"Yeah, I think so." Booth shouted back. They strained to right themselves and she flinched when the ropes cut into her wrists.

"Bones, you okay?" Booth stopped fighting against their restraints, not wanting to hurt her.

"The laceration on my arm hurts a little and when that sociopath grabbed me, he pulled the I.V. out of my hand, otherwise I'm all right."

"These knots won't budge, don't hurt yourself trying. Beckett? Can you get loose?"

"Almost… I almost got it." Castle continued to pick at the knot clumsily. He had broken out into a sweat, concentrating on the task and working it until he felt the rope give. "I think it's freeing up some… "

Beckett caught her breath when she felt the slack. "Nice work! You're almost there."

After a few more minutes, Beckett slid off the gurney, and with a quick tug, she managed to free herself. She rubbed the red raw marks around her wrists and rolled her shoulders with a moan of relief.

"Castle, you did it! How's the leg?" Beckett looked down at the writer with concern. "Are your ribs okay?"

"You make me sound like a dinner entrée, go and untie them." The morphine induced fog had mostly cleared judging from the overall pain he was experiencing.

Beckett pulled herself together and went over to Booth and Brennan, kneeling down, she picked at the knots impatiently. They were twice as thick as hers and would be twice as hard to undo. She looked about for something to use, Newton and his cronies had taken most everything, except for the medical kit attached to the wall.

"Hang on a minute." The box was locked, but she grabbed the fire extinguisher that was next to it and bashed at it twice before it crumpled. She pulled it open and inside she found a small pair of medical scissors and snatched them up.

"You are very resourceful!" Brennan complimented her while Beckett used the scissors to saw at the ropes.

"Fire extinguishers, what would we do without them." Booth gritted teeth.

"Thank Castles and his magical fingers… I almost got it…" It was slow going, but eventually the rope snapped and they were able to break apart.

Beckett sat back, tired from the intensity of the task. "I could use a good idea right about now." She scrambled up to her feet and lent her hand to Booth and in turn he helped Brennan up.

Brennan stretched and checked the cut on her arm. "Who are these people? What do they want with us?" She rummaged through the broken medical kit, finding a tube of antiseptic cream to use on her wrists. She handed it to Beckett.

"He said we were linked to something important. What the hell does that mean?" Beckett squeezed a bit of cream into her hand and handed it to Booth.

"I wish I knew." Booth looked out of the window, the exterior was coated with a thin layer of dust. "Looks like we're in the desert."

"How can you be sure?" Beckett walked back to Castle. She hovered over him, wanting to make him more comfortable, but not knowing what to do.

"Booth was a soldier in Iraq. He knows a desert when he sees one." Brennan stated, she searched her pockets, and smiled holding her cell phone, but her glee was short lived. "No signal and the battery is almost out of power."

"Keep it handy" Booth strained to open the door, it wouldn't budge and he kicked it with frustration.

"Kicking doors isn't the answer, you're going to injure yourself." Brennan picked through the remains of the medical kit.

"There's got to be a way out of here." Beckett circled their prison with her eyes.

From his gurney, Castle propped himself on his forearms and asked. "Has anyone else flown a helicopter besides me?"

* * *

The Observer stared at Olivia, his intensity bore into her and compelled her to look up and meet his gaze.

 _Who are you?_ She thought to herself, but she might as well screamed it, because she knew the Observer had heard her thoughts clearly.

"Agent Dunham, Dr. Bishop's actions caused severe consequences here, and over there."

She looked at him suspiciously. "What are you saying? Walter has altered the course of history?" Her confusion masked the reality she had yet to fully understand. She looked down at the book in front of her. _History is the foundation for the future,_ she thought to herself.

"One man's actions should not change the course of two worlds. I cannot say more, but I can show you." He looked down at the opened book in front of her.

She turned the page and immediately more questions circled around her. Olivia and Peter had both become reluctant recruits into the Fringe Unit and somehow, she knew Broyles had manipulated her, but she was still unsure why. She in turn had lied to Peter, coercing him into helping her, and after the first few months of working together they both knew too much to ever turn back. The Observer and his book had made sure that she could never walk away, he had given her a responsibility, but now the question remained if it was a gift or a threat to her well being.

Three images presented themselves in front of her. The child who she saw grow into a man in the previous pages, had his arms wrapped around his wife, and her figure showed she was in the late stages of pregnancy. The happy looks on their faces gave Olivia hope and she couldn't control the emotions that bubbled up in her heart. She looked at the image below it and the happy couple had become a family. Each parent held a sleeping baby and the proud and tired expressions that have graced parents faces for centuries, graced theirs. Olivia wondered to herself, _will this be part of my reality?_

The Observer broke the silence between them with a simple "yes."

The next image showed the twin toddlers sitting next to each other. The boy was earnestly looking at the pictures in his book and the girl was chewing on the corner of hers. They were beautiful children with dark hair and bright eyes. Their small bodies sat on a comfortable looking armchair with a side table next to it filled with an array of photos and a stack of books. Olivia's eyes roamed over the photos, one was of the family of four, another of Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan and yet another of Olivia and Peter, all of them had aged well, but none the less, they were years older. She leaned down to take a better look and was surprised to make out a photo of Richard Castle and Detective Kate Beckett. Her focus switched to the stack of books. Castle Publishing was on the end of the spine and the thickest book was entitled: _Parallel Lives by Dr. Christine Booth-Bishop_.

* * *

"Where could he have gone to? Great… now DHS has two missing agents. I'm not telling Broyles, I'm letting Van Pelt do it!" The frustrated look on Lisbon's face was all too familiar.

"Now getting cranky isn't going to help." Jane uttered the words under his breath.

"Cranky? If you want to see Cranky, than screw up my order at McDonald's… This has turned into something else. I feel like I'm at the movies, but trapped in it instead of in the audience looking at it.

"Nice analogy." Jane look amused. "There's the triplet's, maybe they'll want to get something to eat." He waved to Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt, they looked tired and Jane thought, hungry.

"Hey Boss, Agent Broyles was arguing with some NSA Agents, we thought it was a good time to escape." Cho saw the annoyed expression on Lisbon's face, he looked over at Jane. "What did you do this time?"

"I'm innocent, I have nothing to feel bad about." Jane shrugged. "But, I am hungry."

"That makes two of us!" Rigsby looked hopeful.

"You want to join us?" Jane looked at Cho and Van Pelt. "Lisbon here, would rather search for the DHS Agent and her consultant."

"You guys are going to have to wait to get some food because I think we just found one of them."


	9. Heroes

Olivia always had incredible coping skills. From the time she was a small child she tolerated much more than most fully developed adults, but at this moment, that tolerance was being tested. When the boundaries between dreams and reality become blurred, what do you believe?

Within the pages of the leather bound book were three more images, two on-line news articles, and one a photograph.

The first image was an article with a photo prominently displayed above the headline. The twins sat together, she guessed them to be about seven or eight, he in a button down shirt and corduroy pants, she looking uncomfortable in a dress with a paisley pattern. Olivia knew she loved these children, it wasn't something she could control, like loving Ella, it was instinctual.

To the right of them, their father stood, strong, well built and handsome, he wore his dress military uniform and stood at attention as another man presented him a blue ribbon with a star hanging from it. Next to him stood their mother, beautiful and elegant wearing a turquoise colored dress and a proud smile.

She read the headline and it made her skin prickle and her emotions overload.

 _ **U.S. ARMY LIEUTENANT COLONEL ROBERT WALTER BISHOP AWARDED THE CONGRESSIONAL MEDAL OF HONOR**  
By Alexis Castle, New York Times Reporter_

 _WASHINGTON DC – United States Army Lieutenant Colonel Robert Bishop, was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. His covert actions in the Alternative America are attributed with curtailing an escalating conflict, saving countless lives and bringing stability to both worlds here and over there._

 _The thirty four year old graduate of West Point, while on a reconnaissance mission to gather information in Alt America, uncovered a rogue faction of their government that sought to provoke conflict between the two worlds. Bishop convinced the Alt. Secretary of Defense that diplomacy should be their first course of action, and through his efforts, a treaty was created by both governments and ratified by the United Nations of both Worlds.  
_

 _Lieutenant Colonel Bishop is the grandson of the late Dr. Walter Bishop who was the first documented U.S. Citizen to cross over to Alt America. His parents are Peter Bishop, CEO of Bishop Laboratories, and Olivia Dunham, Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He is married to_ _Historian Christine Booth-Bishop and they have two children, Temperance and Seeley._

The Medal of Honor… A hero… Olivia smiled, holding back her tears and reining in her emotions. He had traveled to the other side, and had a hand in stopping the war that William Bell and Nina Sharp had warned against. Robert Bishop was important, and now she began to understand why she and Peter were, as well.

Breathing deeply, she shifted her eyes down to the second on-line article, this one also written by Alexis Castle. Olivia knew she needed to understand what her connection was to all of this.

 _**MYSTERY BEACON'S ORIGIN EXPOSED: MASSIVE DYNAMIC COVER-UP?** _   
_**Dual Universes Agree, Further Studies on Cylinder Necessary  
** _ _By Alexis Castle, Special to the New York Times_

 _For the second time in less than a year, Massive Dynamic is under scrutiny by both our government and the Alternative America for allegedly burying information on the origins of the Iridium Beacon. According to this reporter's source, the multi-billion dollar corporation has had in it's possession documentation validating the Beacon's origin and has purposely kept this information from government authorities, here and over there. A set of microcomputer chips, was recently discovered at the Massive Dynamic Headquarters in New York, and given to a private third party for analysis. It contains information on how the Beacon transmits data to an unknown destination, now thought to be another parallel universe.  
_

 _At an early morning press conference, Samuel Weiss, the spokesperson for the World Security Council, debunked the accusation as an overactive imagination by troublemakers who seek to undermine the important work of Massive Dynamic. He claims that 'unknown sources and private third party analysis' are nothing more than malicious slander and unless the informants identities are brought to light their integrity and ability to tell the truth is in doubt.  
_

 _The WSC, a private non-profit corporation, was formed under the leadership of Nina Sharp, Chair of Massive Dynamic. It's mission is to further the security of both our world and the Alt World through shared information and transparency. Ms. Sharp could not be reached for comment._

A third universe? Olivia had only wrapped her mind around the possibility of two worlds, a third would bring more questions... and once again, she realized all things lead back to Massive Dynamic and Nina Sharp, and now, Sam Weiss.

The last image on the page was a photograph of Detective Beckett and Richard Castle. They were much older, but the years had been good to them, judging by their fit appearance and immaculate dress. Behind them a large placard was visible and read:

 _New York Times Best Selling Author_ s  
 _Richard Castle and NYPD Captain, Kate Beckett  
_

 **_RED ROVER, RED ROVER, SEND JOHN MOSELY OVER  
Patrick Jane's Quest to Bring a Serial Killer to Justice_ **

_Richard Castle in collaboration with NYPD Captain Kate Beckett, tell the true story of CBI Consultant Patrick Jane's hunt to apprehend the serial killer known as Red John. With his long time CBI Partner, Assistant Director Teresa Lisbon, their story is one of heart ache, obsession, scientific discovery and redemption._

Olivia re-read the words and studied the photo. The connections were confusing, Detective Beckett and Richard Castle? Agent Lisbon and Patrick Jane? John Mosely? The thought left her breathless.

* * *

"Are you going to give me another electrocuted nose swab? Your bed side manner really sucks." Peter chided his kidnapper, he knew he would already be dead if this was the objective, instead he was being paraded about the airport by the Man in Black.

His abductor chuckled in a way that made Peter cringe. "That John Mosely, was sent to reclaim the cylinder, he failed and died in the process. There are many versions of us thanks to what you refer to as DNA cloning. It's actually amusing." He kept the gun shoved into Peter's back and with one hand on his arm he led him down the concourse.

"What does this cylinder have to do with anything, why are you after it? This is the second time that I know of that it's disappeared, I don't think you'll be able to stop by and just pick it up in your little red wagon." Peter words dripped with sarcasm. "If you're counting on me to retrieve it, you've already failed. Walter didn't hide it this time, so I haven't a clue where it could be."

"Shut up!" Mosely dug his fingers into Peter's arm. "You really don't know what you're dealing with."

"Then explain it to me, I'm what you call a captive audience."

"I told you to SHUT UP!" Peter felt him twist his arm.

"What about the Observer? You know about him? He's here too." Peter taunted him.

Mosely pulled on his arm and stopped for a split second before continuing down the concourse. "Where is he?" He growled sounding even more impatient.

"Why don't we try a little symbiosis? If you won't tell me about the cylinder, tell me about the bald headed men."

"I don't have to tell you anything but this…. The day I walked away from that world was the best day of my life. Just ask Patrick." He was self righteous, smug and maniacal.

Peter's heart started beating faster. _War? Patrick?_ He needed to find out more, but his train of thought was suddenly interrupted.

"Stop!" Cho yelled out. "We'd like to speak to you."

The distraction was just enough to throw Mosely off, Peter swung himself around, grabbing his arm and shoving it and the gun in his hand down. He grappled with him and used his foot to kick the back of his knee, causing him to buckle. He held his wrist and fought him, pushing, pulling and straining for control of the weapon as it waved in the air. The gun went off, a woman screamed and the frightened bystanders ran for cover.

The CBI Team scattered, Van Pelt and Jane shouted to the crowd in the terminal to get back, Lisbon, Rigsby and Cho with their weapons raised circled the fighting men. "Drop the gun!" Cho yelled "GET DOWN!"

Mosley made his move, he pushed Peter into Rigsby and Cho, and that was all it took for him to gain momentum.

He had grabbed Lisbon and pressed his gun against her temple. "Drop it Teresa!" He instructed her, breathing hard into her ear. She did what she was told and her weapon slid from her hand.

"We're leaving now, and if you want me bad enough, then you'll have to let her die, because I will shoot." The terminal had become quiet with the exception of a few cowering bystanders whimpering with fear. Mosely continued to hold the gun to Lisbon's head and they slowly backed away, disappearing around the corner.

"We have to go after them!" Van Pelt cried out, but Rigsby stopped her. "No, we can't risk it. We need back up."

Cho was already on his cell phone alerting the Port Security.

"What the hell is going on here? Do you know this man? Have you encountered him before?" Jane shouted into Peter's face.

"Sort of." Peter offered cryptically. "More importantly, he knew you."

* * *

"You all sure you want to do this?" Castle asked before manning the chopper controls. Booth and Beckett had helped Brennan splint his broken leg, although swollen, discolored and painful, he insisted he could still pilot the helicopter, and they helped him into the cockpit, and strapped him in. He wore a headset and sat in front of the controls and when he flipped a row of switches on the center counsel and the twin computer screens in front of him lit up.

"We can wait until those creepy guys come back and ask us questions about something we know nothing about." Beckett answered.

"I agree, if we can get out of here without getting killed, let's do it." Booth had his arm protectively around Brennan's waist. Years of working together, defining and redefining their partnership, becoming friends, challenging each other, rescuing each other, these had become the norm. When Booth felt her pull him closer, they both knew the feelings they had for each other were were far from their definition of normal. Whether it was their dire circumstances, or just simply the right opportunity, their embrace led to a kiss. It was slightly urgent but still gentle, and enough to finally break down the barriers between them. No explanations were necessary, the smiles on their face said it all.

"Okay you love birds, Castle could use some help." Beckett's scolded in jest. "Booth, up front, okay?"

Booth slipped into the seat next to Castle, he looked at the dials and the twin computer screens. "This looks a lot harder than Parker's video games. How'd you learn to fly?"

"Derrick Storm had to fly a chopper and I got a lesson or two, but it was more the weather and traffic variety. What about you?" Castle looked at the console, trying to decipher what all the different dials meant.

"Army Rangers, in Kosovo. Military Black Hawks, but I've never flown one." He looked at the computer screen in front of him.

"Castle!" Beckett called out from behind them. "Do you even know where we are?"

"The terrain, those outcroppings of rocks, and the climate.. and I recognize the Yucca plants." Brennan looked out the window at the desolate landscape. "Rick, I'm fairly certain this is the Joshua Tree National Park, Palm Springs must be due east."

"Wish I'd thought to pack my clubs." Castle flipped a switch on the console and pulled on the steering column, the chopper engine and rotor blades came to life, it hummed and vibrated like a blender. "Everyone, strap in and get your headsets on." Castle ordered.

Brennan and Beckett fastened themselves in and placed their headsets on. Brennan gripped the armrests on her seat, her white knuckles clearly evident.

"Dr. Brennan, don't worry, we'll get out of this." Beckett tried her best to sound reassuring.

"Helicopters today have vastly improved, but operational error is still a leading cause of crashes." She took a deep breath and blew the air out. "Let's do this!"

The chopper shuddered as it started to lift off but it's ascent was abruptly halted, it teetered back and forth before setting down with a teeth rattling amount of force. Castle groaned and held his rib cage, Booth was out of his seat and unbuckling him at record speed. He pulled him aside just as the popping sound of machine gun bullets and shattering glass filled their ears.


	10. Timing

"This man, John Mosely, what do you mean he knows me?"

"He mentioned you by name, and if I heard right, he mentioned Agent Lisbon by her first name too." Peter looked at Jane warily, he and the CBI Agents had finished giving their statements and answering questions posed to them by the LAX Port Police. All of them were on edge, especially Patrick Jane.

"He's right Jane, I heard him, he said, drop the gun Teresa." Van Pelt added. "What are we going to do?"

Peter shook his head. "You need to understand something, John Mosely isn't like anyone you've ever dealt with. It would take hours to explain everything and even then none of us would completely understand, but don't waste your time trying to make any sense out of this, Agent Lisbon is in danger and you need to find her, and fast."

"Tell us what you know about him, anything is better than nothing." Rigsby demanded.

He faltered for a moment, nothing he could tell them would be of any help, but he knew they'd never be satisfied with an answer that vague. He swiped his hand through his hair and he took a deep breath. "He was wanted for a double homicide in Seattle, most likely drug-related and he is responsible for the death of a retired Marine Colonel, Henry Jacobson. Colonel Jacobson's death is directly linked to the Beacon."

Cho was the first to speak up. "Okay, the Port Security and local authorities are on alert, they have their descriptions, but with the fallout of the collapsed terminal, they're squeezed for time and manpower." He looked at Jane, Risby and Van Pelt. "Where do we start?"

Jane paced the floor, his hands in his trouser pockets. He knew it wasn't possible to reconcile everything that had happened over the last few days, but he understood the gravity of the situation, Lisbon's life was in danger, and for whatever reason, he was responsible. "We should search between here and the parking garage, he'll head that way now that he knows we're after him."

The group nodded to each other, but Peter held back. "Look, I still need to find Olivia… Agent Dunham. If I see anything that will lead you to Mosely or Agent Lisbon, I'll call." Jane watched him walk away, they were as different as night and day, but they had one thing in common, the same priorities. He followed the CBI Team toward the terminal exit.

* * *

"Bones! You all right? Answer me!" Booth yelled out from the floor of the cockpit.

"Agent Booth, not to seem ungrateful, but OW!" Castle moaned, he lay on the helicopter floor, shards of glass from the shattered windshield were scattered on and around them. Booth had drug him away when the windshield exploded from the bullets.

"Kate?" Castle turned his head. "Kate!"

"I'm all right? What the hell is going on?" Beckett answered, struggling to unlatch her seat belt.

Brennan groaned, she unbuckled herself and almost fell to the floor. "Booth! Where are you?" She kept herself low and stumbled over toward the two men. Booth instinctively held his arms out and Brennan reached out to him.

"Booth... I have to tell you something." She clung to him and buried her face in his shoulder. She realized this was it, this was what he wanted her to understand. "Listen to me... what we have between us is real and I am very sorry it took being buried alive, kidnapped and in a helicopter crash before I finally saw it."

He held on to her and felt her hair against his cheek. "Sshhh! It's gonna be okay." He whispered so quietly, she barely heard him.

"No! It's not okay... we've let countless opportunities get by us, and if we let this opportunity go by, l will regret it forever!" She lifted her head and looked into his face. "That wasn't a kiss of friendship." She felt defenseless and hid her face against his shoulder again and wondered, how was it possible to _feel_ another person smile, but she did, and it was warm and knowing.

"Like French people... or kissing your brother?" He hugged her tighter "Bones... I know." Booth kissed the top of her head, but his surge of joy blew apart and he cursed to himself when they felt more shots penetrating the outer shell of the helicopter.

They ducked down and held themselves low to the ground. "When we get out of here alive, I promise you, we will perfect page 187." Brennan mumbled between gunfire.

Booth covered her with his body and grit his teeth. "Then we are getting out of this alive."

Beckett had inched her way over to Castle. "Are you hurt? I mean are you hurt worse than before?" She flattened herself next to him, aware of the gunfire peppering the chopper. He reached out to her with his hand and she grasped it in hers.

"Kate, they say timing is everything and this may be the wrong time, but I need to know something, if we get out of this one..."

"When we get out of this!" She looked grim.

"Yeah, when we get out of this, would you go out with me? Like on a date?"

Even while dodging bullets, Beckett couldn't help but smile, Castle had a sweet side to him and she had to agree, really lousy timing.

His question was left hanging unanswered, and they both cringed when they heard pounding on the chopper door and voices ordering them to stand down.

The doors slid open and three men outfitted in camo entered, pointing their assault weapons at them. Booth could have sworn they looked perplexed and even a little let down when they peered at them from behind their goggles and helmets.

Broyles' entered the chopper and raised his eyebrows at the battered looking foursome. "You all look like hell."

Beckett lifted her head up and looked at Broyles and the SWAT team "What happened to the creepers who kidnapped us?"

"Good question, we thought they were in here." He signaled to the others and the team helped Booth and Brennan up.

"Agent Broyles?" Booth walked up to him, his voice was thick with venom and he narrowed his eyes at the DHS Agent. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed us!"

Brennan recognized the alpha-male tendencies in her partner and she placed her hand on his arm. "Booth... I am quite sure Agent Broyles will fully debrief us, but right now, I really want to get out of here."

He took the hand in his and led her toward the chopper doors. "Bones, if you can glean a rational explanation out of the last three days, I will give you not one, not two, but three guns to play with."

"Kate?" Castle mumbled as Beckett arranged his head in her lap while one of the SWAT team members checked the splint on his leg.

"Dinner and a movie sounds fine, but only if I get to pick the movie." She smiled down at him as a stretcher was brought over to take him away.

* * *

"Agent Dunham, my colleagues and I are witnesses, we are not here to interfere, but there are times when destiny has been altered and the consequences are many and very far-reaching." The Observer spoke quietly.

"You ask, _Why me?_ As I told you before, we have been watching you since you were a small child. Although every being is significant, we chose you because of your willingness to believe and your courage to act on your beliefs. You are special."

The Observer reached over and turned the page in the book that lay open on the table in front of her.

Olivia looked down at the image, it was an aerial photo of a forest of dead trees and gray underbrush. The decay spread for miles and miles, gloomy and desolate, it moved her to sadness and despair. She looked up and met the Observer's eyes before turning the page and finding an image of a young man. He sat behind a desk and suspended in front of him, as if they were floating, were mathematical equations and formulas. He used a stylus of some sort and appeared to be writing on air. On the corner of the desk was a name plate and reading it made her skin prickle, _Dr. S. Booth-Bishop, Dept of Horticulture, Infectious Diseases._

Here was yet another link, one that weaved its way back to Peter and herself, she knew she was looking at her grandson and she knew, without a doubt, whatever he was responsible for, was very important.

The Observer closed the book, and she watched him take his hard sided brief case, open it and place it inside. "Fate is always at work. The day Agent Booth met Dr. Brennan was such a day. The day you met Peter Bishop was another."

His blank expression never changed, even when he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and placed it to his ear. "I see." were the only words he uttered. He stood and looked down at her. "I must go now."

Olivia watched him make his way across the food court, the Observer never looked back. She suddenly felt the shackles that had held her to her chair had dissolved and she pushed the small table away. She stood and found herself walking toward the other end of the room on wobbly legs.

* * *

John Mosely had moved quickly down the concourse, pushing Lisbon ahead toward the parking terminal. He had one arm around her waist and the other hand held his gun against her back.

"What do you think you're doing? How do you know my name?" Lisbon asked under her breath.

"Teresa is a very pretty name. You've come a very long way since you first met Patrick." He dug his fingers into her arm. "I want you to do exactly what I say. Take out your badge and ID, show it to the security guard and don't make any stupid or sudden moves. I have absolutely nothing to loose, you on the other hand stand to loose your life." He placed his gun in his pocket and loosened his grip on her arm when they approached the security exit.

Lisbon cooperated because she knew, if she were to be found alive, time was what she needed. Once they walked past an ambivalent looking guard, he grabbed her arm and maneuvered her toward the escalator and the bridge that would lead them toward the multi-story parking garage.

"Where are we going? You know how many witnesses there are? Let me go!" She pleaded. "If you hurt a CBI agent, the penalties are severe."

He chuckled at her. "Teresa, your naivete is quite charming, I wish I had time to explain this all to you, but I'm not sure you would ever truly understand. Let's just say, I have a unique agenda and an exceptional background."

He had guided her across the bridge and onto an elevator where they got off on the third floor. They wound their way around the parked cars and he finally stopped behind a van.

"Get down!" He pushed her and she hit the pavement, grunting with pain as she fell to her hands and knees. He took a plastic zip tie out of his pocket and bound her hands behind her back.

Mosely held his gun on her and opened the back doors of the van. An overhead light came on and when she looked inside, Lisbon felt the color drain from her face.

On the floor of the van, she saw several knives and a sharpening stone and next to them sat a bucket and a pair of rubber gloves, all of which were covered in blood. Behind the macabre looking tools lay the naked body of a woman, an expression of terror was frozen on her face and the bluish tinge to her skin told Lisbon she was dead.

"Dear God! You're Red John?" She murmured to herself.

He smirked. "You know, when I heard your team was following up on a possible Red John murder, I knew I needed to pay a visit. My, my, these copycats are such amateurs." He motioned toward the dead woman and picked up a knife and turned it so the light hit it and made the blade glint.

"Let me go!" She shouted at him, her voice echoed against the concrete floor and walls.

He reached over and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back with brutish force and forcing a rag in her mouth. She gagged, it made her light headed, but once she stopped struggling, she found she could still breath through. Lisbon willed herself to stay calm and to focus.

Mosely chuckled and chattered on as he arranged the items in the van in an orderly manner. "I really enjoy modest women, they get so excited when I cut their clothes off." He hummed to himself as he dipped a small artist's paintbrush into the bucket of blood on the floor and carefully applied it to the dead woman's toenails. "They say my obsession with Patrick is sick, but I think he's the sick one. What do you think?"

When he turned around, Lisbon rolled onto her side and used her legs to kick out, Mosely stepped away just in time and when he laughed it echoed throughout the parking garage.

"Tsk Tsk! You be that way." He walked towards her, avoiding her legs, and slammed his gun against her head, knocking her unconscious.


	11. Adaptation

Thomas Jerome Newton was intelligent, calculating, methodical and infinitely patient. Having traveled much farther and under more difficult circumstances than seemed humanly possible, he understood the importance of binding ones time and now was such a time. Newton had a mission to accomplish, a task to complete and he would let nothing stand in his way.

He and his men were in a black SUV barreling down the Interstate. They still wore the Medic uniforms from the hijacked helicopter, and with his tall lean frame and short blonde hair, Newton had the appearance of a soldier in command. His piercing blue eyes scanned the monitor in his lap, he tapped on the keyboard and it adjusted the focus on a group of government issued vehicles that included a medical aid car. The caravan had left the Joshua Tree National Park by way of Twenty Nine Palms and headed due west on State Route 60. They had passed Moreno Valley and Chino and would be entering East Los Angeles within the hour.

"Sir, has our directive been abandoned? I understood they were to lead us to it, or that it would come to them. That was the objective, wasn't it?" Newton's colleague addressed him with great respect.

"Plans change, adaptation will help us achieve our goal and keep us alive. It would have been foolish to engage in combat with their army, we would likely have won, but it would have brought unwanted attention on us, it's wise to choose ones battles carefully." Newton lowered the lid on his computer and looked out of the window of their vehicle. "As it turns out, there are more forces at work here than we were aware of, it seems the two authors may not have directly been responsible for the beacon's reappearance. Their involvement is curious, however, containing them would have been an ill use of our resources."

His subordinate, who was driving, looked at him with surprise. "If they are not responsible, who is? The transmission detected at the airport led us directly to them."

"There is much we still need to understand about the Beacon's ability to transmit data. On closer examination, the airport was the correct location, however, we were mistaken about the target. We are now looking for John Mosely."

"Mosely? I thought he was dead? The FBI Agent, shot and killed him."

"Yes she did." He chuckled. "We had thought Agent Dunham had done us a great favor by taking a rogue agent like Mosely out of the fold, he needed to be stopped. His behavior had put our mission in jeopardy, but as we have learned, things are not always as they seem."

"We will arrive back at the airport in a very short time, another helicopter has been appropriated for our use." The driver stepped on the gas pedal and smirked as they sped down the highway.

* * *

It was difficult for Peter to keep his frustration under control, searching the airport terminals for Olivia was like finding a needle in a haystack but he knew he couldn't allow panic get the best of him.

Along the way, he had stopped trying to make sense of the merry go round of people and their objectives, and even though he was angry at Patrick Jane's personal agenda and concerned for Agent Lisbon's safety, his anger and concern was secondary to finding his partner. Olivia pulled Peter toward her like a magnet, they were intrinsically connected and he knew it.

The food court was relatively empty compared to a few hours before, flights had been reinstated and passengers were now bunched up around departure gates. He scanned the area, searching for evidence of her presence, looking for the familiar willowy build and head of flaxen colored hair. He didn't see her, but he spotted a young man cleaning tables and approached him.

"Hey, have you seen a woman, about thirty, five feet six, slim with shoulder length blonde hair, wearing black coat?"

The bus boy set his tray and towel down, he looked at him suspiciously, but his frown disappeared when Peter held out a ten dollar bill.

"There are a lot of women with blonde hair who come through here. Was she with someone?" He eyed the money that Peter held in his fingers.

Peter folded his arms and looked at him. "Maybe… she might have been with a bald headed man in a conservative looking dark suit…"

The teenager grinned. "Oh yeah, they were sitting at that table by the window for the last hour. He was showing her a photo album, he finally got up and left with the book, maybe twenty or thirty minutes ago, right after my shift started."

"Did you see where she went?"

"Yeah, over there." He pointed toward the cocktail lounge at the edge of the food court.

Peter nodded his appreciation and handed him the ten dollars, he quickly crossed the terminal toward the airport lounge. He entered the dimly lit area and was relieved to find Olivia, alive and unhurt slumped over the bar with a drink in her hand.

"My God, Liv… are you all right?" He took the bar stool next to her and leaned toward her, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

"Peter?" Olivia looked up at him, her face filled with confusion and her eyes glistening with emotion. "Peter, have you ever considered the future? Our future?"

"Constantly." He was taken aback and looked at her with concern. "Liv, what happened? After we rescued Castle and Dr. Brennan, I found Broyles knocked out and you were gone. Are you hurt?" He studied her face and the half filled glass of scotch she held in her hand.

He turned her toward him and cupped his hand on her cheek. "Olivia, please tell me what happened?"

She raised her eyes tentatively and looked at him, her voice was filled with distress. "Peter, this is going to sound crazy, even crazier than most of the things we've witnessed and experienced."

He saw she was upset, but his face softened with a small smile "What is it? Tell me your crazy story Agent Dunham."

"We are important, Peter, we matter."

* * *

The Observer walked silently through the deserted parking garage, he looked straight ahead, his posture was erect and his movements purposeful. He stopped and stood discreetly between a box truck and support pillar, and watched John Mosely hovering over a small, dark haired woman who lay motionless on the ground. He had a large carving knife in one hand, a gun dangling from the other and he was talking to himself as he circled around her.

"Teresa, it's time to wake up. He prodded her with the toe of his shoe and the action caused her head to loll back and forth.

Mosely looked amused as she struggled to regain consciousness. He had removed his suit coat and tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves, his hair was no longer combed but hung in his face. "Rise and shine, Teresa. You can't sleep the day away."

Lisbon moaned, but she was still dazed from the beating he had given her and her breathing was labored. Mosely looked irritated behind his mask of amusement. "Teresa? I said wake up." His tone had changed to cold indifference.

Her eyes fluttered open and pain radiated through them, she felt nauseous and disoriented. She closed her eyelids against the assault of the overhead fluorescent light and the accompanying hum, trying to remember where she was and why she felt this way.

Her incoherent behavior incensed Mosely and his face took on an expression of rage. He shook the large knife he held in his hand at her, his body language showed he trembled with emotion. "You know, I always wish I could see Patrick's face whenever he finds another one of my victim's, MY victim, not some bungling amateur who lacks the flair and takes his time like I do." He was boastful and his anger turned to exaltation and pure lust at the anticipation of cutting into her body.

Mosely flicked at the buttons on Lisbon's blouse, watching them skitter across the cement floor, he hummed to himself, but the sound of a distant door opening and faint footsteps in the cavernous building stopped him. His face turned ashen at the sound of muffled voices in the distance.

"I'm not much of a marksman, I don't know if this is a good idea." Jane whispered when Cho handed him the twenty-two he wore in his ankle holster.

"Take it, and use it if you need to. "Cho's tone was dismissive and he motioned for him to follow him, they crept through the garage, looking down the rows and in between the vehicles.

Mosely was visibly disturbed and he quickly stood up and stepped back into the shadows next to his van. He felt the weight of the gun in his hand and placed his finger on the trigger. A buzz of excitement washed over him when he realized the intruders were suddenly very quiet, and he knew they were carefully searching the garage. He could have escaped when he had the chance, but the lure of toying with the CBI was too great, and now he shook with anticipation.

Cho walked very slowly with his gun raised in one hand, his other hand supporting it, he scanned the parking garage, his senses on high alert. He cautioned Jane with a nod and they took turns stealthily criss-crossing from their hiding place behind the cars and then with their backs against a concrete pillar.

Jane felt the presence of the evil sociopath but his concern for Lisbon kept his fear at bay. He felt more than could easily be explained and focused on watching Cho's sly movements, continuing to follow behind him.

The quiet stillness was suddenly disrupted by Lisbon, her muffled moan sent a shock of fear down Jane's spine. Cho suddenly stepped out from behind the vehicle and pointed it toward the noise. He saw the van, it's interior light showed the back doors were open and laying on the ground nearby was Lisbon.

Jane saw her too, he rushed toward her prone body and fell to his knees next to her, he set the gun in his hand down, while Cho spun around looking for the assailant. He removed the gag from her mouth, blood trickled down the side of her face and her breathing was listless and shallow. "Lisbon? Teresa, we're here, you're going to be all right." The words were barely out of Jane's mouth when he heard the shot, the explosion of noise echoed throughout the building, and he turned to see Cho had been thrown backwards onto the ground.

Jane stiffened and raised his hands, he knew a gun was pointed at him from someplace close by.

"You coward..." Jane murmured to himself. "If you're so special, show yourself instead of hiding like a little girl... come out, or is Red John afraid?"

"Oh Patrick, I'm glad you could make it." Mosely chuckled from the shadows. "It's always better with an audience, and you are the best I could hope for. Stand up and keep your hands up." He had stepped away from the van.

Jane slowly stood up, out of the corner of his eye he saw the barrel of a gun come crashing down on his head and he crumpled to the ground. "But maybe, it's time to end this once and for all." Mosely looked pleased and pointed his gun at his head, his finger was still on the trigger and he savored the moment, but his glee was abruptly interrupted.

The Observer stepped out from his hiding place, he held a large gun out in front of him. He pointed it at John Mosely and pulled the trigger, but instead of a shot, a pulse of energy hit him square in the chest. Like a dazed boxer, he staggered back, his own gun went off and echoed throughout the cement structure. The Observer reached up and deflected the bullet with his hand as Mosely fell to his knees and slumped over.

He walked over to Lisbon and Jane who were both barely conscious. "What's happening? What is going on?" She was groggy and felt an inquisitive mixture of gratitude and horror, not sure if what she witnessed was real.

Satisfied that she and Jane were still alive, he turned and walked toward Cho. He had been hit in the chest and lay in a pool of blood, the Observer took a handkerchief out of his inside coat pocket and pressed it to his wound and the bleeding immediately stopped. He stood up, surveyed the scene and walked away.

* * *

Jane was still reeling from the blow to his head, he wasn't sure how long he had been out. He could hear voices near him and the sound and smell of a car engine running. The pain that throbbed in his head prevented him from propping himself up, and his head bobbed from side to side. His eyes would barely focus, but he detected the shapes of people moving, a loud thump and the sound of a car door closing, before the engine revved and sped away.

"Teresa? Can you hear me? Lisbon?" He choked the words out, and rolled over toward her.

"Yeah, I feel sick... What's happened? I don't understand... where's Mosely?

"Cho?" Jane called out, his voice was more than a whisper and filled with dread, but when Cho groaned, Jane was more than relieved and surprised.

He flopped backward and the next thing he detected was Van Pelt and Rigsby hovering over him.


	12. Appetizers

Strapped to a metal chair with restraints and a black cloth hood over his head, he sat in a windowless room that was cool and slightly damp. The only light came from a single naked bulb that hung from the ceiling and the only sounds were from the faint buzz of the electrical current that ran to it and the sound of his own breathing. He had been in and out of this cell for the last several weeks and was no longer sure of the time or the day, but he was sure of this, these people would have killed him if he served no purpose, and because he was still alive, he deduced he must have some value. He might be able to manipulate his situation with a few answers or even a few made up stories and he would use this time to refine the details. He knew, if he showed some patience, the right moment would arrive and in that moment he would escape. There was still much to accomplish and work to finish, a vision of Teresa Lisbon's face flashed in his mind and under the darkness of his blindfold, Red John laughed to himself. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Nina Sharpe sat in her sleek and spartan office on the 65th floor of the skyscraper which housed the Massive Dynamic corporate headquarters. Below her windows, New York city bustled with energy, while two floors below her, John Mosely was incarcerated in a prison cell. After reviewing the video feed on her computer monitor, she tapped the table impatiently before swiveling her chair and turning her back to the screen. Dressed in her usual monochrome of black, she wore a silk sheath dress and draped a cashmere shawl around her shoulders, opera length gloves and tall boots made of the same soft leather completed her ensemble. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, her pale skin and dark lipstick made her auburn hair take on a deeper shade of red. Nina ruled with an iron fist that only a devoted and focused individual could develop after 25 years with the same firm.

"This is most unfortunate. We've misjudged the situation and I'm afraid we will need to continue our search." She looked at the two men who sat across from her, the glass and steel table acting as a buffer zone.

"What do you want to do?" Newton spoke in his usual polite and elegant tone.

Nina rested her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers, a thoughtful look on her face. The moment passed and she shrugged. "No matter, the answers will come. I trust you will find a way to gather the information we need."

Newton looked smug. "But of course. The Beacon is traceable and once we discover who it is currently following, we will find it and discover it's origins." He rose out of his chair. "It can be done." He smiled pleasantly at Nina and nodded to the man sitting in the chair next to him, before leaving.

When the door abruptly shut, Nina spoke to the other man still sitting across from her. "You think he is up for the task?" She looked at Sam Weiss with a curiosity.

"I believe he will keep trying until he find the answers, but Nina, then what?" Sam stood and brushed the wrinkles from his gabardine slacks and adjusted the french cuffs on his white dress shirt. He was something of a chameleon and looked much different in his expensive suit than when he met Olivia in the bowling alley. He walked toward the picture window and looked out. "What about Mosely?"

"He's no longer important, we'll use him somehow." Nina softened her tone. "I understand your concern Sam, but these matters tend to fall into place. There are many more projects to work on and one of them is long term. We need to think of a name for a new organization that we will be putting in place sometime in the future. How does the World Safety Council sound to you?"

Sam turned to face the woman and nodded.

* * *

 _One year later..._

Angela Montenegro held her glass of champagne close to her heart and surveyed the odd assortment of friends, family and law enforcement. She smiled to herself when she realized some of them were all three.

"I'm still shocked we're here." Jack Hodgins, with a plate of assorted goodies in his hand, walked up and stood next to her, he made a sound of approval after devouring a crab puff.

"You're not kidding. But it just goes to show, truth is stranger than fiction." Angela smirked.

Hodgins nodded in agreement, he popped a stuffed date in his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

"It was really nice that they invited all these people. I'm not sure how they all got the time off." She nodded her head toward two men who sat opposite each other engaged in deep conversation. "Doesn't Zach look great? There's got to be a really interesting story on how they pulled that one off." Their former colleague nodded his head earnestly, while the other man gestured with his hands in an animated fashion.

"The man with Zach, he's a scientist named Walter Bishop. I was told he spent years in a mental institution and was released to work with Homeland Security on secret government projects. Take a whiff Jack, you smell a conspiracy?"

The Entomologist chuckled, "It definitely stinks, but what else is new? They are quite a pair, I can see the equations bouncing around between them. You can actually thank Sweets and Daisy, they agreed to be responsible for Zach." He gave a heads up gesture to the tall dark haired psychologist who stood off to the side, his girlfriend waved back while bouncing up and down.

Hodgins took a flute of champagne off of a passing Server's tray. He slurped instead of sipped and Angela rewarded him with a disapproving eye. "How is it you know everybody here?" He asked as he ate a curried almond off of his plate.

"It took a little digging, but yeah, I got a lot of dirt." She shifted her weight to the other foot, tossed her hair back discreetly and sipped her champagne. "You see that pretty young woman with the short black curly hair? Her name is Astrid Farnsworth, she's FBI with that wacky Fringe Unit."

"The interns seem to be having their own little party. It's looking a little intense."

"That's an understatement, I'd say Mr. Nigel-Murray and Clark are having a pissing contest, look how amused Wendell and Aristoo look."

"And how dour Foster looks."

It was true, the Jeffersonian's brightest interns were gathered around the petite FBI Agent with the warm smile, some competing for her attention, others enjoying the competition and one looking completely depressed.

"What about those two." Hodgins pointed over toward a couple standing off to the side, their body language was exclusive.

"The man is a big honcho from DHS, Phillip Broyles and he's talking with a big honchette from the CBI, Madeline Hightower. They make a striking pair don't you think?"

"Not as striking as the babe with Max." Hodgins not so discreetly smiled and winked at Brennan's father. From across the room, Max Keenan raised his eyebrows in return, he was entertaining an elegantly dressed redhead.

"That would be Martha Rodgers, Richard Castle's mother. She's an actress in New York."

"Well, you know what they say... _What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!_ "

Angela and Hodgins looked at each other, grinned and their glasses touched rims before they polished off their champagne.

"I never expected the long white dress, veil and bouquet of roses, but when Brennan told me they were going to get married, and in Las Vegas of all places, I thought to myself, here's a Forensic Anthropologist on crack." Angela looked over her shoulder before tactfully walking over toward the buffet table.

Hodgins chuckled and followed her. "And, having Richard Castle and Nikki Heat officiate over the marriage was different… but much classier then if fat Elvis had been here." They looked at the author and his muse who were in deep conversation with the bride and groom and another couple.

Angela furrowed her brow. "Her name's Kate Beckett and she's a Homicide Detective with the NYPD. Booth said she's a solar flare compared to the character of Nikki Heat. They all met when Brennan and Castle were involved in that airport thing. Someday, I'll get one of them to tell me what really happened, even the abridged version is pretty wild."

"Maybe Castle will write a book about it." Hodgins held up a shrimp and pea-pod on a toothpick and started munching. "Who's the other couple they're with?"

"That's Peter Bishop, Walter Bishop's son and Olivia Dunham, they work for the Fringe Unit under Agent Broyles and are another Fed slash Consultant duo, remember when Booth and Brennan flew to Boston a couple of months ago? They went to their wedding, Booth said they wanted to be married before their baby was born."

"Judging from the big smiles on their faces, it doesn't look like a shotgun marriage." Peter and Olivia stood side by side, one sensed a halo of light around the two of them, when she tilted her head to look up at him, he beamed a smile at her that brightened her face.

Angela bobbed her head up and down in agreement. "Somehow, Booth and Agent Dunham seem to have a connection, in a good way, not odd or creepy."

"Must be the job, it brings people together."

"It's good that Jared and Russ made it. Sometimes I wish I had a brother."

"You and me both. Let's face it, there's nothing like a wedding reception to bring people together." Jared hugged Brennan and Russ shook Booth's hand before they were introduced to the others.

"Jack, you see that Asian man?" Angela waved and the man nodded back at her. "He's with the CBI, I was chatting it up with him, it led to talk about our background and we had a small world moment, we think Agent Cho's grandmother and my maternal grandmother were cousins, which makes our mothers second cousins and us third cousins!"

"Thanks for the genealogy update. Who's he with?"

"She's one of us, well one of you… her name is Lainie Parish and she's a forensic analyst and coroner with the NYPD. She and Cam worked in the same unit, but at different times."

"Why's the California Bureau of Investigation here?"

"Booth told me that Agent Cho, and that couple…" Angela pointed to Rigsby and Van Pelt, "…they helped rescue them."

"They should get the award for best looking pair."

"From what I gathered, they're relationship is under constant threat because they work together."

"The heart wants what the heart wants." Hodgins murmured. He widened his eyes when Angela gave him a surprised look.

"What? I read it in one of Castle's books!"

Angela laughed "I read that one too!"

"When are they going to cut that cake?"

"Jack, you can't possibly be hungry?" Hodgins looked slightly embarrassed.

"Hey look! There's Cam." Angela squinted and looked confused. "Who is that with her?" She spotted their boss, Camille Saroyan with a masculine and handsome looking man, they entered the room with big smiles on their faces."

"That, my dear…" Hodgins said dryly, "…is Detective Javier Espisito, NYPD. Now, how did you not know that? He and his partner work with Beckett and Castle, they're here to work security detail." Hodgins strained his neck and looked around the room. "There... Detective Sean Ryan, he's the other half." Ryan was totally engrossed in his plate of food and looking very content.

Angela raised her eyebrows at him. "Very impressive, it's nice to know you're paying attention. They look totally smitten with each other. That is so cute!"

"Who? Cam and Espisito or Ryan and his plate of mini-quiches?" Angela rolled her eyes, they exchanged their empty glasses for full ones and she did another quick examination of the room.

"Small Booth's found a friend." She looked over at Parker who sat on a couch with a teenage girl, the two had their heads together, and were playing with a hand held video game. "That's Castle's daughter, Alexis, according to Brennan she's brilliant with a definite interest in journalism."

"That's great, you know she's our future."

"Jack, that is so profound." Angela leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Okay Ange, I see Caroline over there and..."

"Captain Roy Montgomery, NYPD, another part of that New York contingency."

"Well at least all of these people seem to have someone to talk too."

"Except for them." Angela pointed with her eyes at the couple standing by the punch bowl, they both looked slightly awkward and uncomfortable. "That is Agent Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane. Do they remind you of anyone?"

"What are you alluding too?" Hodgins looked a bit perplexed.

"Booth and Brennan... you know a few years ago. Cho told me they dig each other but personal baggage keeps getting in the way. That and their obsession with catching a serial killer."

"Homicidal murderers will do that, spoil the moment, that is."

Lisbon looked at Jane out of the corner of her eye, while Jane pretended not to notice.

"All right! They're going to cut the cake." Hodgins exclaimed excitedly.

Booth and Brennan held hands and walked over to the three tiered wedding cake while camera flashes lit up the couple's happy faces.

* * *

The Observer stood next to the entry of the banquet room and watched the festivities, he found the activities interesting and sensed there would be a satisfying outcome. He picked up his hard sided briefcase preparing to leave and looked up to see Patrick Jane raising his glass at him, he had a very large grin on his face. The Observer stared back and cocked his head before turning and walking away.

~End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I definitely bit off more than I could chew with this one, but I really had fun, so I can't say I'm sorry.
> 
> Once again, I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to read and if you left a review, you get a piece of wedding cake.
> 
> I think there are certain elements of this story that work pretty well and I hope they can carry the rest of it, you know the part that makes no sense or leave questions unanswered.
> 
> For those of you who are big time shippers, I give you Booth & Brennan, Peter & Olivia and Castle & Beckett. I am sorry that I can't give you Jane & Lisbon, it just didn't seem possible, maybe after this season it will, I hope you'll be satisfied with Rigsby & Van Pelt.
> 
> I've been watching these four shows on Hulu and streaming on-line and there are certain things from each of the shows that I really love. If you don't watch all four of these shows, there are probably big gaps and the items I've recycled may not be evident to you. I urge you to watch them all, they are all entertaining in their own way and have some terrific writing.
> 
> I know I could use a brutal beta reader, the time has come to burden someone with my misplaced commas, my incorrect tenses, my disjointed thoughts and participles in a noose.
> 
> Once again, merci, gracias, arigato and thank you all for reading!
> 
> ~Mochi


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